Season 5 AU
by JakeFL
Summary: For those who find themselves wanting a different direction for the Winchesters, check out this version of the war against Lucifer.
1. 5 01

**Disclaimer**: Supernatural and all related characters and past story plots belong to it's creator, Eric Kripke, his team, and Warner Brothers. I am making no profit from this story whatsoever. All original characters, however, are mine and anyone who wishes to borrow will need to ask my permission to do so.

**Author's Note**: I am formatting this based on the show, which means that actors and creators will be mentioned in their starring roles, including casting various other actors and actresses into the roles of my original characters who will appear throughout the story. I have no clue if this violates any legal rights, so if this does get taken down because of it, I will adjust the story and repost as quickly as possible. To that end, each chapter will also flow like an episode of the series. The bad guy of the chapter will be put to rest, but there will be a long theme that covers the entire story.

In the future, I will be posting Thursday nights around the same time as the show goes on. I have set up my own updating schedule, which I will try to follow. Do not expect it to correspond with the CW's schedule of new episode, however.

Also, as of yesterday's shocking (depending on if you saw it coming or not) revelation about Sam being Lucifer's vessel, know that I all ready had my own plan in mind for Sam's future. Being Lucifer's vessel is NOT it. I may incorporate it somehow (such as Lucifer nursing the idea of possessing Sam for a while), but it won't be the case. This will more than likely hold true for Dean and Michael, though I haven't completely made up my mind yet.

Finally, this story is written for those who may need to take a break from the insane working of Kripke's mind. Please enjoy and review by clicking the little button at the bottom of the page. All kinds of feedback are welcome.

* * *

**THE ROAD SO FAR**

_(Music begins. It's "Heaven and Hell" performed by Black Sabbath.)_

_A wooden cross marks a grave. Dean Winchester digs his way out, gasping for breath._

_Dean reunites with his brother.  
"Hey, Sammy."  
Sam Winchester hugs his brother_

_A large space is covered with ritual markings. Sparks fly out of the hanging lamps._

_Shots are fired at a man with dark hair wearing a suit and a long coat._

_Dean questions the stranger.  
"Who are you?"  
"Castiel."  
Castiel stands with his wings reflected in shadow.  
"I'm an angel of the Lord."_

_Dean stares in a mirror, pulling back his sleeve to reveal a hand-shaped burn mark.  
"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition."_

_Dean and Castiel are talking alone.  
"Why would an angel rescue me from Hell?"  
"Because we have work for you."_

_The Impala dries down a highway.  
Dean and Sam are in the car.  
"Something major must've happened while I was downstairs…"_

_Sam and Ruby make love.  
"…because I come back and you're BFF with a __**demon**__?"_

_Ruby stands solemnly with her knife.  
"She saved my life."_

_A blonde woman smiles, her eyes turning white.  
"Lilith is trying to break the sixty-six seals."_

_Dean and Castiel are alone in Bobby Singer's kitchen.  
"You think of the seals as locks on a door."  
"Okay. Last one opens and…?"  
"Lucifer walks free."_

_Pamela Barnes screams as her eyes are burned out._

_Azazel slits his wrist, his blood dropping into baby Sam's mouth.  
"I've got demon blood in me, Dean!"_

_Sam and Dean argue on the side of the road.  
"I'm a whole new level of freak!"_

_Sam turns to Ruby.  
"Ruby, it's been weeks. I need it."_

_Ruby slits her arm. Sam drinks the blood that seeps from it.  
"Your brother is heading down a dangerous road, Dean."_

_Pamela whispers in Sam's ear. He looks afraid.  
"If you think you have good intentions, think again."_

_Chuck Shirley and Sam talk about the demon blood.  
"Sucking blood? You gotta know that's wrong."  
"I wish to God I could stop."_

_A man hangs from a demonic trap.  
"Alastair."_

_Flashes of Dean in Hell.  
"He sliced, carved…"_

_Dean and Sam talk next to the car.  
"…until there was nothing left. At the end of every day, he would make me an offer to take me off the rack…"_

_Dean prepares a knife to use on Alastair.  
"…if I started to torture."  
Close up of Alastair.  
"Oh, the first time you picked up my razor. That was the first seal."_

_Sam uses his powers to exorcise Samhain. Dean watches, horrified. Sam grips his head in pain.  
"Do you even know how far off the reservation you've gone?"_

_Sam stares at his brother, blood covering his mouth, stunned and guilty. Dean is beyond pissed off.  
"How far from normal, from human?"_

_Dean confronts Sam in their motel room.  
"If I didn't know you, I would wanna hunt you."_

_Sam is locked in Bobby's panic room.  
"I'm not drinking the demon blood for __**kicks**__!"_

_Ruby approaches Sam.  
"You know what you gotta do."_

_Sam enters the convent with Ruby. Lilith smiles.  
"We have to find Sam now. To stop him, Dean, from killing Lilith."_

_Dean and Castiel go to see Chuck.  
"You're not in this story."  
"Yeah, well, we're making it up as we go."_

_Castiel faces the bright light of the archangel. Chuck watches him._

_Ruby grins smugly at Dean before telekinetically slamming the doors. Dean reacts in shock._

_Sam and Lilith face off.  
"I've been waiting for this."  
"Give me your best shot."  
Sam's eyes become black. Lilith's body glows as it arches. Sam clenches his hand. The glow vanishes and she falls, wide-eyed and dead._

_Sam stares in confusion, watching Lilith's blood create a shape in the floor.  
"You did it. You opened the door."  
__Sam and Ruby are still alone.  
__"I stopped her, I __**killed**__ her."  
__"And it is written that the first demon shall be the last seal."  
__Sam's eyes widen in horror.  
__"And now he's free at last."_

_Dean breaks the door open. Ruby stands before him.  
"You're too late."  
"I don't care."  
Dean advances as Sam grabs Ruby from behind. Dean stabs her with her own knife, and she falls, dead._

_Sam faces his brother, heart wrenching guilt and regret on his face.  
"I'm sorry."_

_A bright, white light shines as the portal opens. Sam and Dean watch it in fear, gripping each other's jackets.  
"He's coming…"_

**NOW**

The light that filled the small chapel was unnatural, both in it's feel and the fact that it was coming from the circle of demon blood on the floor. It hadn't gotten any brighter, but that meant nothing. Just by being there, the light was damning to humanity. It was pure evil.

Lucifer was free.

The Winchester brothers didn't move, both frozen in place. Sam's hand had released it's grip on his older brother and was now hanging by his side. Dean had tightened his own grip on Sam. They couldn't tear their gazes away from this living nightmare.

"He's coming," Sam repeated, his voice stronger than it was before.

This time, the words pierced through the fog that had surrounded Dean's brain. Lucifer was about to rise. This wasn't the time to just stand around, contemplating whatever had lead to this. They had to get out, now!

Dean pulled on his brother's jacket as he ran for the door. Coming out of his own troubled thoughts, Sam glanced at his brother – message received – and followed him. They just reached them when the double doors telekinetically slammed shut.

"Damn it!" swore Dean. He and Sam instantly began to break down the doors. They threw their full weight into their shoulders and arms, attempting to ram the door open, but all that achieved was giving them both pain. The door didn't budge.

If Lucifer was strong enough to trap them from halfway inside his prison, then…

An unholy, high-pitched screech filled the room, echoing off the walls. Sam and Dean gasped, stopping their desperate attempt to break free and covering their ears. Their hands did nothing to shield their sensitive hearing, however. The sound seemed to just get louder with every second that passed. Sam's wince scrunched up his whole face, and he bent over double. He had already been feeling the beginnings of a headache. The horrible sound was only intensifying it.

Dean fought hard to open his eyes. He didn't like what he was seeing. The light appeared to be fading. He could just make out Lilith's outline – or rather, the outline of the poor woman Lilith had been possessing – beyond it. Time was running out. After all he'd heard about him, Dean did not want to be anywhere near here when Lucifer finally reared his ugly head, let alone in the same room.

Glancing around, he spotted the candleholder he'd used not five minutes ago. He grabbed it, moved back towards the door, and started slamming the base of the holder into the center of the wood. The doors opened inward, but if Dean could get enough force behind it, he could knock the doors down. It was their only chance.

Sam opened his eyes at the sound of something banging on the door. Dean was trying to bust them down, get the brothers out. He knew he should be helping, but something held him back. Trying to take out Ruby with his powers had nearly left him spent. And even if he could use them, he wouldn't… not after all they'd cost him…

Suddenly, the double doors fell to the ground with a loud crash, having come clean off their hinges. It seemed to shake the entire church… only the shaking didn't stop. It just got worse, nearly knocking Sam and Dean off their feet as it quickly reached earthquake status. The convent's foundation groaned in protest.

This was getting dangerous.

Sam couldn't stop himself from looking back. His eyes surveyed the entire room at large. Ruby, sprawled right where he had allowed the lifeless body to drop without remorse. Lilith, collapsed beside the alter, white dress flowing around her legs, blonde hair outlining her beautiful face. The light coming from the circle of blood on the floor, slowly but surely starting to intensify once again. The stone floor suddenly cracked.

He had done this… He was to blame… It was all his fault…

Sam hadn't moved. Dean could see the faraway look in his eyes, knew exactly what he was thinking, but now wasn't the time for self-pity. He wasn't sure what would happen once Lucifer finally broke free of his cage, but he really didn't want to stick around and find out.

"Sam, we gotta move," Dean said, tugging on his little brother's arm.

Dean's voice and the sound of his name brought Sam back to the situation. He nodded stiffly and turned away from the scene. Together, they ran down the corridor and out of St. Mary's.

The ground trembled violently beneath their feet as they ran. Glancing back over his shoulder, Dean could see the glow from the windows as it intensified. He looked away once more, picking up his pace. Sam was right beside him, matching his speed and also casting quick glances at the building. Their only warning was a loud rumble from the direction of the convent.

BOOM!

It wasn't so much a sound as a vibration. One that could probably be felt all the way over in Uruguay! The Winchesters were knocked off their feet, landing about two feet away from where they were, Dean on his stomach, Sam on his back. The blinding white light that had accompanied the blast forced the boys to keep their eyes shut tight. Sam covered his closed eyes with his arm for good measure.

Then, silence fell. Neither brother moved, waiting. The air felt extremely tense around them. Familiar noises began to reach their ears. The sounds of the night had returned. Cautiously, Dean squinted one eye. Seeing nothing but darkness, he opened his eyes a little more. No light. All was clear.

Sam felt Dean's movements and knew it was safe, for now. He opened his eyes, put his hands under him, and painfully pushed himself to his feet. Dean mimicked his brother, rising just as painfully. They turned to look at the convent once more. St. Mary's looked peaceful and untouched from the outside. No one would ever have known that something had happened just by staring at its exterior.

But something had happened there. Something that meant the end of the world.

Lucifer had risen.

Dean and Sam quickly located the nearest car. The Impala had been left back at Bobby Singer's place in South Dakota. It wasn't that Dean had left it there on purpose. The angels hadn't given him much choice. Thinking back on it, Dean realized Bobby was probably worried about him, giving his sudden disappearing act. He'd have to remember to call him later.

They got the doors open quickly enough. Sliding into their usual seats, Dean started to hotwire the engine. It roared to life, the sudden noise making the brothers jump slightly. Dean put the car in drive and pulled out into the street. He didn't have a direction yet; just anywhere that would get them out of this town.

Sam watched the streets fly by for a while. His racing heart was finally slowing down. His guilty conscious was still screaming at him, though. His headache hadn't let up yet, either, but he could deal with it for now. They had more pressing issues.

Sam looked across at Dean, keeping his face unreadable, trying to analyze his brother's mood. Dean had to be so furious and disappointed in him.

Dean met Sam's gaze. He knew his fear and concern showed on his face. He wasn't sure what was going to happen now, but his brother was his top priority. He hoped Sam could wait just a little longer, though, because there was something they had to do first. Dean turned back to the road.

He knew where they had to go.

_Blood splatters across the screen, quickly fading to form the words._

**SUPERNATURAL**

_Static makes the word flicker and eventually fade._

**Gary, Indiana**

Gary was always a quiet town. One of those places where everyone knew everyone else. There wasn't much crime in the area; mostly stupid kids pulling pranks or the occasional bar fight. Life tended to get tedious in a place like this.

**THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM**

The local high school held four grades, though the number of students in each class wasn't very large. There weren't that many teachers in the building, either. Just enough to cover the core subjects for every grade, art, physical education, music, and health. Therefore, everyone in the building got to know each other pretty well.

Mr. Allen Parker taught Government, the seniors' level of Social Studies. He loved his job and tried to treat all his students as equals. But that year, he'd had one particular student who he could never get off his mind.

Belinda Grover was the best in her class, easily slated as valedictorian. She did well in every class, played a variety of sports, was captain of the cheer squad, participated in band, orchestra, and choir, was part of a number of clubs and activities, and was the senior class president. She was extremely popular, having been voted Homecoming Queen and would probably be Prom Queen as well. She was also very beautiful, with long dirty blonde hair, pale eyes, and a kind face. She'd had many boyfriends, all of whom were older than her.

So was it any small wonder Allen Parker had taken a romantic interest in his young student?

He wasn't completely stupid. He knew it was wrong. But Belinda had been eighteen for several months now, and she was clearly just as into the idea as he was. They kept it a complete secret, as so not to tarnish both their reputations. They had agreed to wait until Belinda had graduated before they went out on any dates. Everything was kept extremely professional.

So one particular day in May, Allen was handing back his recent tests. Though many students had done well, only Belinda had a perfect score. The girl smiled when she realized that one of her answers was, in fact, incorrect. She had learned not to question it, though. This was the only way Mr. Parker could safely show his affection for her. He always refused to change her grade, so she had let it go. It wasn't like anyone looked that closely, anyway.

When the bell rang, the class immediately began to pack their books. "Remember, your term papers are due tomorrow, no excuses. You've had since February to complete them," Allen reminded them all as they started to leave. His eyes sought out the young woman in the front of the room. "Belinda, I exceptionally look forward to reading yours," he added with a wink.

Belinda nodded, giving him a warm smile. "You won't be disappointed," she replied. She delicately flipped her hair over her shoulder, turned around, and left the room.

Allen returned to his desk to pull out his things for his next class. Suddenly, the fluorescent lights above him began to flicker. He glanced up, confused, but the lights had stopped. He shrugged, noticing it was starting to feel cold in the room. He went to grab his sweater from the closet. That meant that he failed to notice the strange girl who'd appeared next to Belinda Grover's desk. Allen didn't see her gray skin, matted flaxen hair, and intense silver eyes, which she now used to stare at him coldly.

A few doors down was the classroom where Belinda had her Physics lessons. She searched through her bag, but failed to find her assignment pad. She groaned after realizing where she'd last had it.

"Tell Mrs. Soren I'll be right back. I left something in Government," Belinda said to Christie, her best friend and lab partner.

"You've been pretty forgetful lately," smirked Christie. "Sure it's not just because of the new boyfriend?"

"Shut up," said Belinda with a meaningful look. "You swore you wouldn't tell."

"Oh my God! I know, all right? Chill out," laughed Christie.

Belinda shook her head and left the classroom. She walked the short distance to Mr. Parker's room. The door was closed, which caused her to frown. She knew this was Allen's prep period. He never closed the door when he was in his room.

She cautiously knocked on the door. "Mr. Parker?" she called. There was no answer, so she tried again. "Mr. Parker!" Again, no answer. She tried the door. The handle turned, so it wasn't locked. She pushed it open. "Allen?" she whispered… and then froze where she stood.

Allen Parker was sprawled across his desk, eyes wide open and dull, shirt torn open, covered in blood…

Belinda screamed.

* * *

The place wasn't as messy as he had assumed it would be.

**STARRING**  
**JARED PADALECKI**

Sam and Dean moved cautiously through the empty house. On the road, Dean had explained everything the angels had put him through. His being held in the safe room, Zachariah revealing the plan, Castiel getting him out with every intention to stop Sam, Castiel and Dean going to Chuck Shirley for help, the archangel descending, and Castiel sending Dean to the convent. Sam listened in silence, only reacting in shock to the news that the angels _wanted_ Lucifer free. That they'd been playing him, too, just as Ruby had.

**JENSEN ACKLES**

It was obvious that no one was around. Dean was becoming concerned. What had happened to Castiel? Was he all right or did the archangel do something to him? Dragged him back to Heaven? Killed him? And where was Chuck?

**MISHA COLLINS**

Sam stopped in front of the computer. It was still on, showing a word document of the latest manuscript of _Supernatural_. Chuck had called it "Lucifer Rising." Not really wanting to, but curious anyway, Sam skimmed the pages. It detailed exactly what had gone down at the convent, even his entire conversation with Ruby. Reading the words was just as painful as hearing them spoken.

_"I was the best of those sons of bitches, the most loyal!... Yeah, I'm sure you're a little angry right now, but I mean, _come on_, Sam! Even you have to admit I'm – I'm awesome!... It wasn't the blood. It was you and your choices. I just gave you the options, and you chose the right path _every time_. You didn't _need_ the feather to fly, you had it in you the whole time, Dumbo…"_

He swallowed back the bile that had risen to his throat. It was bad enough that he'd been the one to unleash Hell on Earth, but to see proof of what he'd done on paper like this…

**GUEST STARRING**  
**JIM BEAVER**

There were some differences in the plot, though. Dean had come to the convent, he and Sam had killed Ruby, they'd escaped. Chuck's version, however, claimed that the angels were still holding Dean. Even Castiel had refused to help. Sam and Ruby were alone when Lucifer had started to rise. That was where the story had ended.

**ROB BENEDICT**

Sam ran his hand through his hair. He still had some trouble dealing with the part where all of this had been pre-planned. Even Azazel, the yellow-eyed demon who'd killed his mom and Jess, had been part of this. Sam remembered how, at Cold Oak, the demon had called him the favorite. Ruby said that he had to be the one to open the door. This was all just too much.

God, his throat was burning!

**GENEIEVE CORTESE**

Dean watched his brother carefully out of the corner of his eye. He remembered how it felt when Castiel told him he had broken the first seal. The guilt had consumed him for some time until he managed to convince himself that there was still time to fix it. So he knew exactly what Sam was going through there. He had seen his little brother's guilt written all over his face back at the convent. He had been quiet in the car, his expression mostly blank except for his eyes. Now, looking at what the prophet had written, it was all back on his face. Sam had always been the more emotional Winchester, so Dean knew he wouldn't be able to bottle it up for long. However, this could go on for a number of days.

Then there was the other little problem of withdrawal. Dean could see that his brother was beginning to go through the symptoms. He didn't know when Sam's last hit had been, or how much it had taken out of him to kill Lilith, but from the looks of things, he wouldn't last too long. Dean still had trouble wrapping his brain around the fact that his little brother was an addict. And of all the substance abuse issues he could have picked, it just had to be demon blood. Sam always had to be different.

Dean sighed. Thinking about all this now wasn't going to do any good. Sure, he was pissed as Hell at the kid, and he knew he couldn't fully trust him, but it hadn't been completely Sam's fault. He'd been used by angels and demons alike. Dean wasn't going to forget that any time soon. Right now, however, there was nothing he could do. Sam wasn't ready to ask for help. This time, Dean wouldn't force him to do something he didn't want to do. He would just have to be patient.

"The place is deserted," said Dean, speaking for the first time.

Sam looked up at him, worried. "Do you think they got out?"

"I don't know, maybe. I mean, Chuck's a prophet. The archangel wouldn't have hurt him," Dean replied. "But there's no sign of what might have happened to him."

Dean's cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, glancing down at the caller id. He answered it right away.

"Hey, Bobby."

In South Dakota, Bobby's tense form instantly relaxed. It was so good to hear that voice. "Dean, where the hell are you? I've been callin' every half hour since ya up and disappeared on me," he scolded.

"Yeah, sorry. I haven't been exactly in range," Dean said, glancing at Sam, who was listening intently. "Bobby, listen, we're in trouble."

"What kind of trouble?" Bobby asked, concerned.

"The final seal was broken. Lucifer's free," Dean said, knowing full well what to expect.

"_What_?" Bobby stood up quickly. "How'd that happen?"

"Lilith. She was the final seal. She's dead," summarized Dean flatly.

Bobby heard the tone Dean used. He realized what must have happened. "Sam," he said with a resigned sigh. "He killed Lilith."

"Yeah, and Ruby was in on it the whole time," confirmed Dean.

Sam felt his stomach drop. So Bobby was able to figure it out.

"Why didn't you stop him? Why didn't the angels stop him?" demanded Bobby.

Dean's voice instantly became angered. "Because they wanted it to happen! The angels screwed us over!"

"They wanted Lucifer free?" Bobby was confused. "I thought you were supposed to stop it?"

"Well, apparently, they didn't mean Lilith. They want me to stop Lucifer," Dean told him.

"Holy shit," said Bobby, shocked. "Where's Sam now? Is he with you?"

"Yeah, he's here." Dean spared his brother another glance. "We're on our way to you so we can pick up the Impala and plan our next move."

"Yeah, okay,' Bobby said, picking up that morning's paper. "But maybe you can stop in Gary, Indiana first."

"Why? What's in Gary, Indiana?" Dean asked in confusion.

"One of the local teachers was found dead in his classroom in the middle of the day. The police are at a loss. There was no murder weapon, no fingerprints, no witnesses. From the sounds of it, it could be an angry spirit."

Dean's eyes widened slightly. "A job?" he asked, now fully turning to his little brother. "I don't know, Bobby."

Sam met Dean's eyes. The news of a hunt in Indiana was a surprise. He wasn't sure he was ready to get back out there, but they couldn't ignore it. Besides, it might get his mind off his guilt and give Dean a chance to take out his frustration on the supernatural.

"Tell him we'll take it," Sam said.

Dean wasn't sure if he'd heard him right. "What?"

"We'll take it," repeated Sam, standing up.

Nope, he'd heard correctly. "Sam, neither one of us have slept in the last twenty-four hours. Who knows where Lucifer is? Castiel and Chuck are gone. You really think we're ready to take on a hunt right now?"

"People are dying, Dean. We can't just pretend it isn't happening," Sam said reasonably. "Besides, we're heading in that direction, anyway."

Dean knew he was right, but that didn't mean he liked it. They weren't in top form, physically or otherwise. Sam was only going to get worse. How would he be able to handle a salt and burn once the hallucinations started? Could Dean really count on him to watch his back?

None of that mattered now, though, not with Sam looking that determined. Dean heaved a sigh and put the phone back to his ear. "All right, Bobby. We'll handle it," he said.

Bobby had expected that response. He wouldn't have asked, considering everything they'd gone through in the last couple of days, but there was no other choice. The Winchesters were the closest to the area.

He heard the initial hesitation, though. Sam must have been the one to insist they go. He knew that Dean would watch out for the boy – he'd agreed to go, didn't he? – but a reminder wouldn't hurt.

"Watch out for your brother, ya idgit," Bobby said before he hung up.

* * *

They stopped along the way to get some much-needed sleep at a motel, but by mid-afternoon the next day, the stolen car was parked outside a high school in Gary, Indiana. Sam and Dean had donned their suits and grabbed a couple of their less frequently used FBI badges. They stepped into the empty Government classroom, accompanied by the school principal, Mrs. Silvia Johnson.

"I'm not sure I understand. Why is the FBI interested in this?" she asked uncertainly.

"Mrs. Johnson, I can assure you, it's just a routine check. Teacher murdered on school property, kinda raises some alarms these days. Especially after Columbine and Virginia Tech," lied Sam smoothly.

"You think one of the students could have done this?" asked Mrs. Johnson.

"You tell me," Dean answered. "Did Mr. Parker have any enemies, somebody who might've held a grudge?"

"No," the principal said right away, looking a little confused. "All the students loved him. Allen went out of his way to help them succeed."

"And all the students knew him? I though he only taught the seniors?" Dean wanted to know.

"It's a pretty small community. Everyone knows everyone around here," said Mrs. Johnson. "A few of our students even live on my street."

"You said it was a student who found the body?" asked Sam, giving Dean a chance to investigate the bloodstained desk and blackboard.

"Belinda Grover," responded Mrs. Johnson with a nod. "Poor thing's been broken up about it ever since. The other teachers have been taking it easy on her."

"That's very kind of them," said Sam, sympathetic tones in his voice.

The principal nodded. "She spent a lot of time with him this year. I think he was one of her favorite teachers. I mean, Belinda's a straight A student, she's always put a hundred percent into her work, but… I don't know, she did exceptionally well in Allen's class."

Sam nodded. "Well, thank you for your time," he said.

Mrs. Johnson nodded and left the room. The second she was gone, Sam crossed the room and closed the door. Dean pulled out the EMF meter. It started giving him positive readings.

"Bobby was right. It's definitely a spirit," Dean confirmed.

"Why would it go after a high school History teacher?" asked Sam, confused.

"That's what we gotta figure out," said Dean, putting the EMF away.

"Maybe Belinda saw something," Sam suggested.

"Yeah, maybe. All right," Dean said with a sigh, "let's go talk to her."

They decided to wait until after the school day was over. They caught up to Belinda just before cheerleading practice. Dean found his eyes drawn to the girls, all of whom were wearing their uniforms. He grinned broadly, forgetting where he was for the moment.

"_Nice_," he muttered under his breath.

Sam, knowing his brother, instantly turned to give him an incredulous look. "Dean," he scolded.

Dean looked at him, grin still in place. "What? You're supposed to look at the cheerleaders," he insisted.

Sam shook his head and walked towards the girls. Dean quickly followed behind him. They had all ready figured out which student was Belinda, so they went right over to her.

"Belinda Grover?" asked Dean.

The blonde teenager looked at them. "Yes?" she responded.

Dean and Sam pulled out their badges as Dean introduced them. "I'm Agent Reed, this is Agent Lloyd. We need to ask you a couple of questions about Allen Parker's murder."

The girl's confusion instantly faded to one of sorrow. "Oh, right," was all she said.

"Belinda, did you know Mr. Parker very well?" asked Sam gently as he slowly led her away from the large crowd.

"About as well as a lot of the other students knew him," said Belinda with a shrug.

"What was he like?" wondered Sam.

"Kind, considerate, really smart. He always knew just how to motivate us… he was the best…" Her voice trailed off.

"What made you go into the classroom? You'd just finished class, right?" Sam questioned.

"I left my assignment pad, so I decided to go get it before Physics started."

"And that's when you found the body?" Dean said.

"Yeah," the cheerleader nodded.

"Did you notice anything strange?" pressed Dean.

"What do you mean?" asked Belinda, confused again.

"Well, was there anything that seemed out of place? Maybe something you might not have thought to tell the cops about," he encouraged.

"No. Why would I have recognized something like that?" Belinda asked, her tone changing drastically.

"What about Mr. Parker? Did you notice if he was acting differently?" Dean continued.

"No! He was fine! He was acting like he always did!" Belinda was suddenly raising her tone.

The brothers exchanged brief knowing glances before returning their attention back to the girl. "Okay, thank you for your time," said Sam with a smile. He turned and walked back toward the car with Dean right beside him. Belinda returned to the squad.

"So, what do you think?" asked Sam.

"Oh, she's definitely hiding something," replied Dean immediately. He loosened the tie around his neck.

"Right. The question is what." Sam swallowed, trying to sooth his burning throat. It was taking all his resolve to ignore how painful it was, but he didn't have a choice. Dean was upset with him enough as it was. Sam wasn't about to prove himself the weak link on a hunt he suggested they take.

"Whatever it is, it has something to do with Parker," Dean said, glancing over at Sam. His brother was starting to physically show the signs of withdrawal. The hallucinations and seizures probably wouldn't be too far behind. There was no way Dean could rely on his brother once that happened. "All right, I'll check out the classroom. You see if there've been any other deaths recently."

Sam nodded in agreement as they got in the car.

* * *

Dean waited until it was well after nightfall. Breaking into a school was hard. Breaking into a school that was also a crime scene was a bitch. Fortunately, John Winchester had taught his boys well, and Dean was able to get in with no complications.

He pulled out his flashlight and carefully looked around. There had to be something in here that made Belinda Grover nervous, something that explained why Parker had been killed. All along, he kept a look out for the spirit, the gun in his hand filled with rock salt and ready to shoot at a moment's notice. His cell was off, just in case, even though Sam knew not to call.

Dean stopped at the teacher's desk. Opening the top drawer, he saw a bunch of papers. Tests, essays, and scantrons all yet to be graded. At the bottom of the pile was a manila envelope. Curious, Dean pulled it out and opened it. There were more papers in here, but they were photocopies of previous assignments, all graded. They belonged to one particular student.

Dean stared at them, realization making his eyes widen. "Holy crap," he exclaimed loudly.

* * *

Sam sat at the table with his laptop open in the motel room. He was ready when Dean returned, manila envelope in hand, swinging the door shut behind him.

"You're not going to believe this," announced Dean as he dropped the envelope onto the table next to the computer. Sam picked it up to look through it. "Found it at the bottom of one of Parker's drawers. They're graded papers, and look whose name is at the top of every one."

"'Belinda Grover,'" Sam read in a soft voice.

"Exactly. I checked the rest of the classroom. There were others exactly like it, pretty well hidden. Everything this girl's ever done since the beginning of the year," Dean said. He sat down across from his brother. "Talk about favoritism."

Sam's eyebrows scrunched in confusion as he stared at one of the tests. "This is wrong."

"What?" Dean asked.

"Her answer. It's wrong. The Miranda Rights were mandated in 1966, not 1965," explained Sam, quickly reading through the papers. "And the Supreme Court's ruling in favor of Brown didn't just affect Plessy v. Ferguson, but four other cases related to Brown v. Board of Education."

Dean gave his brother a blank stare. Despite everything that had happened, he was glad to see Sam still hung on to the things he learned while at Stanford.

"So she's not perfect. Why does it matter?" he said.

Sam looked up at him. "Because they're marked right."

"Seriously?" Dean asked, grabbing the papers. Sure enough, every one was labeled with a large letter A. "Teacher's pet material right there."

"I think it's more than that," said Sam as he turned his attention back to his laptop.

"Take it that means you found something," Dean said.

"Yeah. Allen Parker wasn't the first victim. There was Alexander Padmore in 2003, Austen Poole in 1997, Andrew Phillips in 1991, Abner Perkins in 1985, and Aiden Purcell in 1979. Six murders, six schools, all within a six year time span."

"666," Dean said with a snort. "Like we didn't all ready know it was the Apocalypse."

Sam didn't acknowledge that. "It took me a minute, but I noticed a connection. Their initials are all the same."

"A.P.," said Dean.

"Right, and in all the articles that reported their deaths, one of the students gave a statement. Blossom Gardner, Brenda Gonzales, Bethany Gallagher, Barbara Graham, Billie Gibbs…"

"B.G. Belinda Grover," Dean observed.

"And Brittany Gables," said Sam, turning the computer so he could see the image of the beautiful flaxen haired girl. "Murdered 1973. Police suspected the drama teacher Arnold Prescott, but he was never caught. Brittany's friends claimed that she and Prescott were romantically involved, but once she went to college, she decided to break it off."

"Guess Prescott wasn't too thrilled about that," said Dean.

"Right, and the first death was six years later," concluded Sam.

"So then I guess we should go have another chat with Belinda," Dean said.

* * *

The brothers agreed to corner Belinda before school, so they headed out bright and early the next day. Sam seemed dazed in the car, which worried Dean. It was slower this time, but the withdrawal was becoming more evident. Sam still wasn't mentioning it, though, so his hands were tied. Not that the kid deserved to keep what was left of his pride in tact, but fighting him would only lead to more problems. So Dean would put aside all that for now and focus on the hunt.

Belinda arrived a little later than anticipated, but Dean and Sam were able to catch up to her quickly. "Belinda, my partner and I have a couple more questions for you, if that's all right," Dean started.

Belinda instantly looked skittish. "I – I don't want to be late for homeroom," she stuttered.

"Oh, this won't take long," said Dean. "Belinda, you said you knew Mr. Parker well?"

"Yeah, he _was_ my teacher," the girl said slightly defensively.

"What about outside of school? Did you ever see him at the movie theater or run into him at the mall?" asked Dean.

"S – sometimes," said Belinda with a shake in her voice.

"Did you ever say hello or did he stop to speak with you?" Dean pressed on.

"Ye – yes, when he – he wasn't busy," she replied. They were getting somewhere.

"What about your grades? Were you passing his class?" asked Sam.

"Of course. I have a 4.0," she insisted.

"And you came by that naturally? You never stopped by Mr. Parker's room for extra help? Before school, after school, lunch breaks, study hall?"

Belinda's eyes locked on Dean. They were filled with fear. She couldn't believe it – they knew.

Sam made sure to catch her eyes before he spoke. "Belinda, Allen Parker was killed, and we think we know who did it. We can stop this person, but we need you to tell us what you know."

The blonde was silent for a moment. She took a deep breath. "Allen and I loved each other. It wasn't official, I mean, we weren't together, but we were gonna be," said Belinda.

"After you graduated," Sam guessed correctly.

Belinda nodded.

"Did anyone know?" asked Dean.

"No," Belinda answered, shaking her head. "Just my friend, Christie, but no one else knew."

_"No one knew… Not even Alastair knew! Only Lilith!"_

Sam winced slightly, tension building in his head and the burning in his throat becoming difficult to ignore. Ruby's voice echoed in his head, sounding so much more real than it should have been. He clenched his fists to still their trembling.

Dean watched as Sam suddenly paled and winced. His little brother was weakening, and it would be too much work trying to explain if he lost it in front of Belinda. They had what they needed. Time to get going.

"Thank you, Belinda. You can go to class," he told the girl. Belinda nodded and left.

"Parker and Belinda were together, just like Brittany and Prescott," said Sam, forcing himself to focus back on the job.

"Yeah, and I'm willing to bet the other victims were sweet on their students," said Dean as he reluctantly followed his brother's example. "Please tell me the article said where Brittany was buried."

"Calvary Cemetery and Crematory," Sam answered immediately.

Dean couldn't help but feel impressed. "All right." With that, he led the way back to the car.

* * *

The cover of nightfall was always best when digging up a corpse, but Dean wasn't too thrilled about the wait. Sam had become increasingly jumpy over the course of the day. He also kept spacing out, usually mid-sentence. The symptoms were different than the last time he'd gone through withdrawal, but considering he'd never heard of anyone else having recovered from a demon blood addiction, Dean had to guess that this could be perfectly normal. Not that it would do them any good if Sam had an episode when the spirit showed up, which they tended to do when their remains were about to be torched.

The time for patience was over. Dean had to say something.

"Found it!" called Sam from somewhere off to his left. Dean jogged over to see that his brother had located the grave marker for Brittany Gables. In fact, he was all ready digging.

It was now or never.

"Hey, uh, Sam. How – how are you doing?" Dean asked in his most casual voice, joining his brother with a shovel.

Sam gave him a confused look. "Fine," he said.

"Really? No anxiety, cravings, hallucinations?" He kept his voice nonchalant.

The real question he was asking was suddenly loud and clear: _Are you going to be able to do this?_ Suddenly feeling annoyed, Sam stopped and faced his brother. "I said I'm fine," he said in a slow and deliberate tone.

"All right," Dean replied, just as calm as before.

Sam couldn't believe him. "This is about the demon blood, isn't it?" he demanded to know. "You don't think I'll be able to hack it if something goes wrong."

"I didn't say that, Sam."

"You didn't have to, Dean. You think that I don't know you're pissed at me?"

"Damn right I'm pissed," growled Dean, digging deeper into the Earth.

"And you have every right to be," said Sam, going back to work uncovering the corpse. "God knows, I deserve it. But that's why I suggested we take this hunt. To prove to you, and to myself, that I'm stronger than we both think."

Dean froze. "_Please_ tell me you didn't just say that," he grunted.

"We're both thinking it. I'm just saying it," stated Sam.

"Look, can we just not talk about this now?" Dean asked roughly. This wasn't the way he had pictured this conversation going. It was better just to end it now before it got any worse, and he said something he didn't mean.

"Fine."

"Fine."

They worked in silence from then on. Soon, they'd uncovered the casket. Dean smashed open the box, revealing the bones of a teenage girl. The brothers climbed out of the grave and threw aside the shovels. Sam grabbed the salt, pouring a generous amount onto the remains. He had just finished when the temperature dropped.

Dean saw her first. A young girl who appeared to be in her late teens. Her skin was gray. Her flaxen hair was dirty and matted. Her clothes were ripped and clearly belonged to the 1970s. Her silver eyes were intense, sharp… and glaring directly at Sam.

"Sam, duck!" Dean shouted, raising the gun as his brother obeyed. He fired, but the girl was quicker. She avoided the rock salt and was instantly closer to the hunters, her gaze deadlier than before. Next thing he knew, Dean was sent flying through the air.

Seeing her distracted, Sam grabbed the shotgun and stood. He fired at Brittany's spirit, but again she had vanished before the shot reached her. Frustrated, Sam glanced all around, his senses on high alert, his heart pounding. He could see Dean sitting up, knew he was okay, and so kept his attention focused on finding the spirit.

"Son of a – " Dean cursed as he sat up. "This bitch is going down." He pushed himself to his feet, located his weapon, and was ready for when Brittany reappeared.

Brittany's eyes flickered from one brother to the other, not sure which one was the bigger threat. Sam and Dean stood on either side of her, guns raised, aimed at her. In order to attack one, the other would be left to come at her. Not that it would deter her. The blonde telekinetically disarmed both Winchesters and pinned them to one of the grave markers closest to them.

Dean grunted as he struggled against the supernatural force that held him down. He couldn't even move his head to look for where his gun had been thrown. He could only watch as the spirit appeared in front of his little brother.

Sam stopped trying to free himself when Brittany materialized. She looked at him with cold eyes, but her expression was no longer murderous. In fact, it was blank. Her complexion seemed to be improving, gray becoming more natural coloring. Her flaxen hair was changing, too, to dark brown and cleaner, cared for. Her eyes even went from silver to brown, but lost none of their cruelty.

Ruby smiled silkily. "I told you, Sammy. You used all your powers breaking the final seal," she taunted. "And without them, you're weak. Hell, even with them, you're weak. What was one of the things John drilled into you from the moment he realized you knew the truth. _Never_ trust a demon, no matter what they're offering. Dean knew. He didn't trust me from the first day we met. Guess that's why he's the good little soldier."

Sam tried to tune her out, tried not to listen. But nothing worked.

"And to top it all off, you started drinking it's blood so you could get stronger. To try and make yourself less weak. But all that did was prove how weak and desperate you really are," Ruby continued with a sneer. "You're worthless, Sam. A monster. A freak. A vampire. A _junkie_."

He could do nothing but stare at her and tremble. The fire in his throat screamed for relief.

Dean saw the spirit reach for Sam, hands outstretched. Sam didn't move (probably because he couldn't), but the look on his face didn't match the situation. Too much pain, not enough fear or even frustration. He couldn't be sure, but Dean figured he was lost in some hallucination. That meant it was up to him.

If he could just get free!

BANG!

Dean jumped as Brittany howled. The spirit dispersed, instantly releasing the brothers from her hold. Dean scrambled upright, looking in the direction of the shot… and stared in surprise.

Chuck Shirley was holding Dean's shotgun with trembling hands, looking terrified and relieved at the same time. Castiel stood beside him, nodding slightly in satisfaction.

"Nice shooting," Dean said with his own nod.

"My first time," said Chuck with a trembling voice.

"Finish her off. We'll check on Sam," said Castiel.

Dean pulled the matches out of his pocket and returned to the grave. He doused the bones with practically the entire half-gallon of lighter fluid they had left before striking one of the matches and tossing it in. Brittany Gables' remains were immediately aflame. Her spirit was finally at rest. The job complete but for the cleanup, Dean dropped everything he was holding and jogged over to Sam…

…who was still on the ground and not allowing Castiel and Chuck to get anywhere near him.

"No… _no_!" Sam was moaning.

"It's gonna be okay, Sam," Chuck tried to soothe while keeping his distance. He knew what was happening, and it hurt to know there was nothing he could do to help.

Castiel looked at Dean. "The withdrawal's getting worse. We need to get him somewhere safe," he said.

"I know," muttered Dean. He took another step towards his brother, standing between him and their friends. "Sam?"

Sam looked up at him, eyes full of unshed tears. "I can't do it, Dean… I can't be what I'm not." He swallowed. "I'm not strong enough… I couldn't stop myself. I can't blame Ruby or the angels or Lilith or Azazel… because this is all my fault. Lucifer's free… and I let him out… I destroyed the world…" Tears spilled down his cheeks as Sam looked away, wincing, raising a hand to his throat. "And the fire… it won't stop burning… I know what it wants, but I can't _do_ that anymore. I just _can't_…" He swallowed again and, this time, his voice broke. "But I want to… because I'm weak, worthless… God, Dean, I need help!"

That was it. Dean closed his eyes for a moment in an attempt to keep his own emotions under control. Finally, Sam was willing to accept help. Slowly, Dean knelt down beside Sam, who was sobbing now, and wrapped his arms around him. Sam curled further into his older brother, seeking reassurance and safety.

"You're not weak, Sammy, and you're not worthless. You're just very sick," Dean told him gently, "but you're gonna be okay… because I'm gonna help you. I'm gonna take care of you. I gotcha, I gotcha…"

A memory hit as he spoke those words, a memory of supporting his brother's body while kneeling in the mud. They were the same words Dean had told a dying Sam in Cold Oak only two years ago. Unwilling to linger there, Dean pulled himself back to the present, where his little brother still needed him.

Chuck and Castiel watched the brothers in silence, allowing them time before they offered their support.

* * *

Dawn had come an hour ago.

Dean waited until Sam had calmed down before bringing him back to the car, securing him in the passenger's seat. Castiel watched over him while Dean and Chuck reburied Brittany's corpse and gathered their things. Finally, Dean had everything packed up. He closed the trunk and addressed the others.

"So, what happened? I mean, last time I saw you two, you had an archangel up your ass," he said, "not to mention we stopped by your house and the place was trashed."

"That was from Michael's ascent," explained Castiel.

Dean's eyebrows rose a little at that. "Michael? The dude with the sword?"

"Yeah. He's actually pretty cool," Chuck grinned.

"So why didn't he kill you?" asked Dean.

"Because it was not God's will," responded Castiel. "He said my work is not yet over, and that I would be needed when the war begins."

"Speaking of which, what happened to Lucifer?" wondered Dean.

"He is out there, seeking his vessel. Michael said he would take his time in order to select the best one," Castiel said. "Unfortunately, until he has settled into his vessel, we cannot hope to find him."

"So that's it?" Dean demanded. "We just twiddle our thumbs while the world goes to Hell?"

Castiel gave him a warning look. "We will have our chance. There is much to be done in the meantime. Your concern right now must be getting Sam back on his feet," he replied.

Dean glanced at his brother through the windows. Sam appeared to be sleeping, but who knew how long that would last. He turned back to Castiel and nodded his agreement.

Chuck clasped a hand on Dean's shoulder, then turned to rejoin Castiel. The angel had all ready agreed to take the prophet home. The next time Dean blinked, they were gone.

Dean crossed back to the driver's side door and got behind the wheel. Sparing another look at Sam and a gentle pat on the kid's arm, he started up the engine and began to drive, toward South Dakota and Bobby's place.

**CREATOR**  
**ERIC KRIPKE**

**EXECUTIVE PRODUCERS**  
**ERIC KRIPKE**  
**ROBERT SINGER**

**FANFICTION STORY**  
**JAKE THE FEARLESS LEADER**

_Sam encounters Jess in the panic room..._

_Bobby introduces Dean to a new hunter..._

_Dean and this new hunter track a demon to it's ritual site..._

_A mysterious figure holds a vial of blood to Sam's lips..._


	2. 5 02

**Disclaimer**: Supernatural and all related characters and past story plots belong to it's creator, Eric Kripke, his team, and Warner Brothers. I am making no profit from this story whatsoever. All original characters, however, are mine and anyone who wishes to borrow will need to ask my permission to do so.

**Author's Note**: I am formatting this based on the show, which means that actors and creators will be mentioned in their starring roles, including casting various other actors and actresses into the roles of my original characters who will appear throughout the story. I have no clue if this violates any legal rights, so if this does get taken down because of it, I will adjust the story and repost as quickly as possible. To that end, each chapter will also flow like an episode of the series. The bad guy of the chapter will be put to rest, but there will be a long theme that covers the entire story. For today's episode, if you saw Philip Glenister in _Demons_, then you know how I am picturing him acting this part.

Sorry about the delay with this chapter. I ended up changing some of the plot midway through so that it would provide an explanation about what's going to be happening in future chapters. I'll try to get the next one up on time.

Please enjoy and review by clicking the button at the bottom of your screens.

* * *

**THEN**

_The Winchesters run to the double doors of St. Mary's just as it slams shut.  
"Lucifer's free… and I let him out."  
Sam and Dean close their eyes against the bright white light of Lucifer.  
"I destroyed the world…"_

_Dean and Sam argue in the honeymoon suite.  
"She's __**poison**__, Sam!"  
_

_Ruby smirks as Sam drinks her blood.  
"__**Look what she did to you**__!"_

_Sam sits on a motel bed.  
"I need to be strong enough."_

_Sam and Chuck talk in the motel room.  
"I know about the demon blood."  
"Scares the hell outta me."  
"But you keep going back."  
"What choice have I got?"  
"Maybe the demon blood makes you feel… more in control?"  
"That's not true."_

_Sam pours blood onto his hand from a flask. He then proceeds to suck it off.  
"He's drinking demon blood. It's so much worse that we thought."_

_Sam calls Ruby and gets her voicemail.  
"I'm all out. Call me. I need more."_

_Sam stares longingly at the cut on a demon's throat. He leans over and drinks from it. He pulls away, mouth covered in blood. Dean looks scared and worried.  
"At least let me explain myself –"  
"Don't. I don't care."_

_Sam steps into the panic room.  
"So what's the big demon problem?"  
_

_Fourteen year old Sam's eyes turn yellow.  
"You are."_

_Sam and Dean speak through the window on the metal door.  
"You're actually trying to twist this into some kind of ridiculous drug intervention?"  
"I guess I've just imagined how stressed out you've been lately."_

_A blurry image of Sam rubbing his temples, slightly sweating.  
"The answer's yes. You're hallucinating."_

_Sam stands before the mirror, watching in fear as dark lines form across his skin.  
"__**Guys, help**__!"_

_Sam is telekinetically spun over the walls. Bobby and Dean grab his arms and pull him to the floor._

_Dean lean over his chained down little brother.  
"You're nothing to me."  
"Don't you say that to me."_

_Bobby and Dean argue in the living room.  
"This cold-turkey thing isn't working… Sam's not gonna last much longer."  
"I'm not giving him demon blood. I won't do it."_

_Sam and Dean in the honeymoon suite.  
"You don't know what you're doing, Sam."  
"Yes, I do!"  
"__**Then that's worse**__!... Because it's not something that you're doing, it's what you are!"  
"Say it."  
__Sam strangles Dean on the ground.  
__"It means you're a monster."  
__Dean breathes harshly, his words aimed at Sam.  
__"If you walk out that door, don't you ever come back."_

_Bobby gets in Dean's face.  
"__**They're supposed to make you miserable! That's why they're called family!**__"_

_Sam confides in Ruby on the side of the road.  
"I've changed. For good. There's no going back now."_

_Dean calls Sam from the safe room.  
"We're brothers, you know. We're family. …no matter how bad it gets, that doesn't change."_

_Dean and Zachariah discuss the Apocalypse.  
"What about Sam?"  
"Sam… has a part to play. He may need a little nudging in the right direction, but I'll make sure he plays it."_

_Sam and Dean are digging up Brittany Gables' grave.  
"You don't think I'll be able to hack it if something goes wrong."  
"I didn't say that, Sam."  
"You didn't have to, Dean."_

_Sam's hallucination of Ruby taunts him.  
"You're worthless, Sam. A monster. A freak. A vampire. A __**junkie**__."_

_Sam is on the ground having a full meltdown.  
"And the fire… it won't stop burning…"  
Dean cradles Sam as he cries into his shoulder.  
"God, Dean, I need help!"_

_Castiel, Chuck, and Dean chat at the side of the road outside the cemetery.  
"Your concern right now must be getting Sam back on his feet."_

_Dean gives his brother a gentle pat on the arm. The stolen car drives away._

**NOW**

**St. Clair, Minnesota**

It was a quiet night so far. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky. The moon and stars created the perfect backdrop for a romantic evening.

Melissa Underwood sighed. Life was funny sometimes. She hadn't been sure of how this evening was going to go. She'd agreed to a blind date set up by one of her co-workers at the local fabric store. She was nervous about it. She hadn't dated much since her fiancé cheated on her, and she wasn't too confident about Jackson Ames. He was cute and came off as a real sweetheart, but he seemed to be a major dork. Hadn't he said he was a huge fan of Star Wars, Star Trek, and the Lord of the Rings trilogy?

It turned out to be okay, though. Jackson wasn't an over-the-top fanatic. He had other interests and had a respectable job in the post office. And he really won bonus points by sharing her interest in walking through the park for no reason other than to simply enjoy the peace and serenity. That's what they were doing right now, in fact. Melissa felt that she'd really gotten to know Jackson because of it. Maybe this was the start of something good.

"You know, I'm really having a good time with you," said Jackson, taking her hand.

"Yeah, me too," Melissa smiled.

"Hey, maybe later when I drop you off you'll be willing to let me walk with you to the door," he said as he softened his voice.

"Maybe I will," teased Melissa, knowing exactly what he was suggesting. "Or maybe you don't have to wait." She leaned over and kissed him. For someone who claimed not to have had a lot of experience, he was certainly good at it.

Jackson grinned as he pulled away. "Wow," he said, which made her giggle. "That was amazing."

"Not so bad yourself." Melissa knew she was shamelessly flirting now, but she couldn't help it. That kiss… it rocked her world.

Suddenly, Jackson had a mysterious look on his face. "Can I show you something?"

"Sure. What is it?" She felt a little excited.

"It's a surprise," said Jackson.

He led her down the path, moving towards the center of the park. But then, Jackson turned and left the path. He walked straight for the area where most of the trees grew. Melissa followed him close behind, feeling a little concerned. Not because she was afraid, but because she wasn't. But even that concern ebbed away. Why would she be scared? Jackson was a great guy.

They came to an abandoned clearing. It was a strange place. Beautiful, like the rest of the park, but the grass was stained in certain places. It wasn't like anything Melissa had ever seen before. She turned to face Jackson, confused. "Jackson, what is this place?" Then she gasped, stepping back.

His eyes had turned completely black.

"Oh, my God!" she exclaimed, now terrified.

Jackson flinched slightly before sneering, "He has nothing to do with it." Swiftly, he pulled his knife out of his back pocket and expertly swung it, cutting a deep slash into the girl's neck. The body's natural response was to raise a hand to cover the wound, but Melissa was dead before she hit the ground.

Satisfied, the demon glanced around him. Melissa's blood was the fourth offering. It wouldn't be much longer now. He had all ready set his sights on the next sacrifice. This one would be more trusting than the last, so getting his hands on her wouldn't be an issue. That would give him some time to seek out the offering that would follow.

The demon grinned.

_Blood splatters across the screen, quickly fading to form the words._

**SUPERNATURAL**

_Static makes the words flicker and eventually fade._

It felt as though Sam had been dipped in lava. Every single muscle and bone in his body burned white hot. The room spun for seconds at a time whenever he would open his eyes. He didn't really know where he was, having gone to sleep in a stolen car with his brother beside him and waking up in a circular room chained down to whatever surface he was on. There was very little light flowing into the room so he could just barely tell what time of day it was. He didn't know, however, how much time had gone by. All he could feel was pain and exhaustion.

**ROAD TO REDEMPTION**

He wasn't aware of being watched, but Dean was there all right. It had been five days now since the Winchesters had arrived at Bobby Singer's salvage yard. They had wasted no time in getting Sam down to the panic room. Bobby suggested that they immediately tie him to the bed just in case he was tossed around the room again. Dean had hated it, but knew it had to be done.

**STARRING**  
**JARED PADALECKI**

There were quite a few changes from the last time they had tried the detoxification. Dean didn't spend all his time upstairs with Bobby. Sure, he was with him for meals, to sleep, coffee breaks, and the like, but he also spent a few hours a day with Sam, either sitting on the stairs watching the door, standing just outside looking in through the window, or actually in the panic room, sitting in a chair near the bed.

**JENSEN ACKLES**

Sam had been getting progressively worse. The screaming and delusional talk, which had happened often in the first couple of days, occurred now few and far between. Not that they were less painful to listen to. They had ignored them for the most part, just as they had before, but Dean had a harder time with it when he was in the same room.

Sam's outer appearance wasn't any better. His skin matched the dingy mattress he lay on. His eyes had circles under them so dark they were the color of charcoal. He had yet to stop sweating and his eyes had become glassy.

Seeing his little brother succumb to sleep once more, Dean pushed himself to his feet, stretching sore muscles. He left the panic room and went to join Bobby up in the kitchen. The older hunter had just poured two cups of fresh coffee when Dean entered.

"What time is it?"

"Just about three," said Bobby, glancing at the clock. "Sam asleep?"

"Yeah," Dean responded, accepting one of the mugs.

**GUEST STARRING**  
**PIPER PERABO**

Silence fell for the moment. Then Bobby cleared this throat. "So Lucifer's taking his sweet time selecting a meat suit, huh?" he spoke finally.

"That's what Cas said," said Dean with a nod.

"Which is what Michael told him?" Bobby clarified. Dean nodded again.

**JIM BEAVER**

"So does that mean Michael's on our side?" asked Bobby.

"I don't know. I mean, he didn't smite Cas, but it sounded more like he was just following orders," Dean said as he ran his fingers through his short hair.

"Orders? From who?"

Dean looked at him seriously. "God?"

**DANNY STRONG**

Bobby couldn't help the incredulous tone in his voice or the look on his face. "_God?_"

"Cas said something about God's Will," said Dean with a shrug. "I mean, if He really is out there, I don't understand how He could just sit back while Lucifer's prison busts open. Unless…"

"Unless what?" asked Bobby.

**PHILIP GLENISTER**

"Something Zach said is still bothering me," Dean admitted. "He said 'God has left the building.' Ignoring the Elvis Presley reference, it makes you think. What if God's not in Heaven? What if He left?"

Bobby considered it. "Certainly explain the angel's behavior. But if God ain't in Heaven, then where the hell is He?" wondered Bobby.

"Maybe on Earth, walking among us," suggested Dean.

**ADRIENNE PALICKI**

"You think God's taken a vessel?"

"Wouldn't put it past him."

A sudden knock on the door ended the conversation. The hunters glanced at the door. Neither one of them had been expecting anybody. Dean set his mug down and crossed to the door. Placing one hand on the gun in his pocket, he unlocked the door with his other hand and opened it.

A woman stood outside the door, a woman Dean's age… and hot! She had long, straight golden blonde hair, which was pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her eyes were brown and her complexion was slightly tanned. She wore a fitted black t-shirt, vibrantly colored blue jeans, a metallic bronze leather jacket, and an old beat up pair of black Doc Martians. Dean automatically grinned flirtatiously at her.

"Hi. Can I help you?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm looking for Bobby Singer. Is he around?" she asked.

"Let me guess: car trouble? 'Cause, you know, I'm a pretty good mechanic myself." Dean pulled his hand off his gun and leaned against the doorframe. "I'd be happy to take a look at it."

The woman gave a half chuckle and a slight smile. She couldn't believe the nerve of this guy. Sure, he was extremely good-looking, definitely her type, but he seriously needed to get rid of the attitude.

"Okay, how 'bout this? You tell me where Bobby Singer is, and I'll pretend you didn't just come on to me," she said, her grin widening at the stunned expression on his face.

Dean was completely taken by surprise. It was rare that he encountered a woman who could resist his charms. Normally he took it with stride, but for some reason, this time he felt a twinge of annoyance.

Bobby laughed as he came over. "That'll teach ya to mess with this spitfire, boy," he said knowingly.

Dean looked up. Bobby knew her?

"Hey, Bobby," he woman said, stepping inside.

"Dana. What brings you 'round these parts?" asked Bobby.

"Just finished up a job few towns over. Thought I'd stop by," explained Dana, eyeing Dean as he closed the door. "Didn't realize you had company."

"Yeah. I forgot you two haven't actually had the pleasure of meeting before," Bobby said. "Dean, this is Dana Addleman. And Dana, this is Dean Winchester."

Her eyes widened in recognition. "_You're_ Dean Winchester?"

"I see you've heard of me," Dean said, grinning again. "All good things, I hope."

"John said you're one of the best hunters out there. That you've saved a lot of people and that you could always be counted on in a tight spot." Dana saw the grin widening. She realized that all she'd done was inflate his all ready large ego. It was time for a reality check. "And that you're a womanizer," she added with a sly smile of her own.

Dean's grin instantly became a scowl. Bobby couldn't help by chuckle. Less than five minutes together and Dana all ready knew which buttons to push.

"So you worked with my dad?" asked Dean, trying to pull himself together after that last comment. Okay, so maybe it was true, but it still hurt.

"No, actually. I never had the opportunity. My dad was one of John's hunting partners, though. After a particularly rough hunt, John would come back to the house to get patched up or grab a drink before driving back to his boys. Started happening more and more in the initial years after Sam learned the truth," explained Dana.

"Let me guess, until our dads had a falling out and never spoke to each other again," said Dean. That was typically the way things went with John Winchester.

"Actually, they stayed in contact right up until John died. He used to ask Dad to keep an eye open for any sight that the demon who killed your mother was near," said Dana matter-of-factly.

Dean raised his eyebrows, slightly surprised. John had really asked another hunter for his help? How much did Dana's father actually know about Azazel and his plans for Sam? Did John keep secrets from him, too?

Dana glanced around. She knew that someone was missing who should have been there. "So, where's Sam? I haven't spoken to him since September."

"You spoke to Sam?" Dean asked, ignoring the harder question.

"Yeah, Bobby had him call me. Spirits targeting hunters, red alert, ring any bells?" she answered with light sarcasm.

Dean didn't answer. Yes, he remembered very well. The Rising of the Witnesses was the first seal they had knowingly encountered.

"Where is he? I thought you guys were supposed to be joined at the hip," Dana asked again, placing a hand on her waist.

"My brother's preoccupied right now," replied Dean in a flat tone. Sam was going through enough without Dana snooping around.

"Is he okay?" asked Dana, genuinely concerned. From the short conversation they'd had and all she'd heard from John, she felt as though she and Sam were old friends. It would upset her if he was hurt.

"He's sick," Dean said in the same flat tone. Could she not take the hint and leave well enough alone?

"What do you mean, sick? Like the flu or pneumonia?" Dana was ready with a number of remedies, if that was the case.

Dean didn't respond. He really didn't want her involved. Sam was his little brother, his responsibility. He knew how to take care of him.

Bobby knew what was going through Dean's head. This wasn't the time for it, though. Dana was a good friend, and the Addlemans had proven themselves trustworthy a long time ago. In times like these, they needed as many on their side as they could get. Dana needed to know the truth.

"Withdrawal," he muttered in a low voice, earning an angry glare from Dean.

Dana reacted in surprise. "Oh," she said. Withdrawal meant addiction. Not impossible to overcome, but definitely a lot harder.

Dean turned his glare to her, not caring if it was going to make her uncomfortable. She deserved fair warning. He wasn't going to tolerate any crap she might have to say.

Dana noticed the cold stare. It didn't bother her in the least. John had always said she could give his oldest a run for his money. It was time to see if he was right. "What's he hooked on?" Dana asked, staring into Dean's eyes unflinchingly.

"What?" Dean asked in suspicion.

"What's the addiction? Cocaine, heroin, narcotics?" Dana reworded calmly. She had a feeling Dean would open up to her if she didn't get worked up. "Gotta be pretty bad if he's isolated."

He didn't speak for a moment. She was hard to figure out. But her demeanor was cool and collected. It appeared as though she wanted him to trust her. If Bobby and John had done so, then maybe she was all right.

"Demon blood," he told her finally.

Dana grimaced. She knew it had to be bad if Dean had hesitated so long in telling her, but she didn't expect it to be _that_.

"Did Sam ask for help?" asked Dana. She was going to need all the facts if she was to be of any use to them.

"Yeah," said Bobby.

"Good. That's a good sign. The first step is for the addict to admit he's lost control," said Dana with a nod. "How many times a day was he drinking the blood? Do you know?"

Dean shook his head. "No. He was doing a pretty good job of hiding it from me. I only started noticing something was wrong about a week ago," he said. He looked at her curiously. Why did it see like she knew what she was talking about?

"Okay, so how often are you giving him demon blood, then? Two, three times a day?"

_That_ got Dean's attention. "What?" he demanded, narrowing his eyes at her again.

"How many times are you feeding him blood? I mean, you're weaning him off it, right?" Dana reasoned expectedly.

"Not exactly," admitted Bobby.

Dana stared at him incredulously. No way there were stupid enough to –

"Tell me you're not doing this cold turkey," she begged.

"It's the way Dean wants it," Bobby told her.

Apparently, they were.

"Oh, my God. Are you _insane_?" she demanded, both hands now on her hips, glaring daggers in Dean's direction, who looked startled by the outburst. "You don't make an alcoholic quit cold turkey! Did you honestly think demon blood would be any different?"

To say Dean was taken aback by her sudden anger was a bit of an understatement. He was also pretty impressed. It wasn't just anyone who could stand up to a Winchester like that. Not that she was about to get away with it.

"This isn't any of your damn business! Sam is my brother, and I'm calling the shots!" he said forcefully.

"Then you're going to kill him! I'm surprised he lasted this long," stated Dana. "This isn't something you just do without expecting side effects. The human body has limits, and going cold turnkey without professional help is dangerous, regardless of the addiction."

"How would you know?" Dean demanded. "How do you even know so much about this?"

"Because my brother is a doctor," Dana told him. "And he's had a few patients who've gone through rehab before. Nothing as serious as this, but the treatment is basically the same. And every doctor and psychiatrist says the best method is to wean the addict off the substance slowly."

"Sorry, but that's not gonna happen," growled Dean.

"If we don't –"

"_I said no_! Sammy doesn't want it," he explained, silencing Dana. "Before he gave in to the hallucinations fully, he told me that he couldn't drink blood anymore, that he won't." Dean swallowed, remembering how broken Sam had sounded that day. "I won't do it. I won't hurt him like that."

Dana heard the desperation, saw the barely restrained tears, knew he was adamant. It was a bad idea, but there was no other option. And besides, it was apparently what Sam had wanted.

"All right," she said with a sigh. "You better tell me what his symptoms are."

* * *

Sam awoke suddenly, his attempt to bolt upright stopped by the cuffs on his wrists. Glancing to his left, he saw Dean sitting in the chair nearby.

"I wondered when you'd wake up," Dean said with a sneer. "I mean, kinda hoped you wouldn't, but since you have…"

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, confused.

"Don't tell me you forgot. That it slipped your mind," replied Dean as he stood up. "Maybe these will refresh your memory." He pulled back the collar of his outer shirt. There was strange bruising on his neck, like human fingers.

"Oh, God," said Sam, staring in horror. He didn't even see them before, but how could he have missed them?

"Coming back now, right? The fight. You tried to strangle me, Sam. You tried to kill your own brother."

"N – no, I didn't mean –"

"Yes, you did, Sam. I saw it in your face. You were enjoying it. You held my life in your hands, and you loved every minute of it." Dean's voice was becoming more menacing and cold. A bizarre echo accompanied it, but Sam took no notice. "If only I'd had my gun, you would be dead now."

"Dean, please –"

"Don't know what possessed me to get you out of that convent," he went on, ignoring Sam's plea. "Should've left you. I mean, then Lucifer would've probably killed you for me. Or at least burned your eyes out. But that's all water under the bridge now." Dean walked closer to Sam's head. "Time to do what I should've done a long time ago."

"No, Dean, please! I'm your brother!"

Dean sneered. "My brother is dead to me," he announced coldly. "If I'd known then what I know now, I never would've sold my soul. I'd have salted and burned your ass so quick Jake wouldn't have even gotten away yet. Dad warned me about you, Sam, and he was right. I should have known I couldn't save you. You were always a monster. And I hunt monsters."

With a great swiftness Sam had never seen him use before, Dean lifted his hands and gripped them around his little brother's neck like a vice. Sam struggled and grunted, trying to pull away, but it was no use. His brother was too strong and the cuffs kept him bound to the table. He could see that hateful look in Dean's eyes and felt moisture leave his own.

"Dean, stop…" he gasped weakly.

* * *

As the story got longer, the three hunters had moved into the living room. Dana removed her jacket to make herself more at home. Dean noted the short sleeves, revealing beautiful arms.

Dana sat in silence, taking in all that she'd heard. She couldn't believe that this was the second attempt at doing this. The first one – which Sam hadn't even consented to, big mistake – hadn't been as long and the symptoms had progressed quickly. This time, Sam was surviving longer and the only seizure he'd had was that first morning, but being tied down, he couldn't go flying around the room again.

"Well, the differences in the symptoms could be related to the amount of demon blood in Sam's body. The first time you tried this was right after he'd had a hit, but this time he didn't, right?" she asked to clarify.

"Yep," said Dean. He didn't bring up Lilith and the final seal. No need for her to know Sam had been to one to release Lucifer.

"Would also explain the delay with the seizures," agreed Bobby.

Dana nodded. "Exactly. So we may have a shot at doing this right if we –"

"DEAN!"

All three heads turned toward the hallway that led downstairs. Dean's heart clenched and misses several beats. The last time he'd heard his brother sound like that was when the hellhound had been tearing him apart…

Dean was running down the hall before he was even aware of having decided Sam needed him. Dana and Bobby quickly followed. The screaming was growing louder as they descended the stairs. Dean grabbed the door, struggling a little with the locks in his haste to get it open. A moment later, it paid off, and he and Bobby were pulling the metal door open.

Sam was frantic, struggling against the binds, jerking in every direction as he tried to free himself. Dean flung himself into the room and dove to his brother's side. He grabbed Sam's shoulders in an attempt to steady him.

"Whoa, easy, Sam. It's okay," he soothed.

Sam met his eyes with a terrified stare. "No! Don't!" he gasped and tried to free himself from Dean's grip, but the older brother wasn't letting go.

"Sam, it's all right. You're all right," repeated Dean, trying to keep his voice calm.

Still, Sam continued to struggle. Dean was standing right next to him and, while no longer trying to kill him, clearly hadn't fully let the idea go. He had him by the shoulders, glaring down at him as though he wanted nothing more to do with him.

"_Bloodsucking freak... monster… vampire…_"

Dean hated him.

"_You're not you anymore, and there's no going back…_"

His big brother hated him.

"Please don't do it," Sam begged, staring into cold and unforgiving eyes. "Don't hurt me, please!"

"Sam, I'm not going to hurt you." Dean was feeling frustrated and concerned by now. Why wouldn't Sam calm down for him? "It's me, Sam, it's Dean."

That was it, Dana realized suddenly as she stood next to Bobby near the door watching the Winchesters. That was the whole problem. Dean was too close, and Sam was afraid.

"Dean, back off," she ordered firmly.

"What?" he demanded, turning his head to stare at her intently.

"Back off. You're scaring him," Dana informed them as she moved forward. Pushing Dean away from his brother, she placed a comforting hand on Sam's chest in order to gain his trust. "Sam? My name is Dana Addleman. Do you remember me? We spoke on the phone about a year ago."

Dean stepped forward, about to protest, but Bobby put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Let her do it, Dean," he mumbled softly. Bobby wasn't stupid. He saw the way Sam reacted. Something about Dean had the boy spooked.

Sam turned petrified, glossy eyes to Dana as she started rubbing his arm gently. "Don't let him," he pleaded softly, brokenly. "Hates… kill…"

"Shh," whispered Dana gently.

"Not a vampire… Dean… didn't mean to…"

"It's okay, Sam, just relax," she said, but there was a twinge in her gut that told her it wasn't. _Vampire_? Where had _that_ come from? And the overwhelming fear in Sam's eyes made her just as uneasy. Dana knew this couldn't have come from the young man's deluded min. Dean had played some part in all this.

"Keep… away…" Sam was whispering now, but Dana heard every word. "Keep… him… away…"

She knew exactly who he meant. "I won't let Dean anywhere near you, I promise," she told Sam as he began to drift off.

Dean watched the whole thing from afar. Realization had frozen him and crumbled his face. Sam didn't want Dean near him.

His little brother was _scared_ of him!

* * *

Once they were sure Sam was asleep, the three hunters returned upstairs to the library. The air was incredibly tense. Dean was still unnerved by Sam's rejection. Dana, on the other hand, was almost positive Dean had contributed to his brother's most recent hallucination.

"Well, don't you win 'Brother-of-the-Year?'" she started in, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "What exactly did you say to him during that last fight?"

"I all ready told you," said Dean.

"Obviously not everything," Dana responded, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Are you saying that Sam being afraid of me is _my_ fault?" he demanded.

"Well, you did call him a monster, try to beat him up, and kick him out of your life."

"Which I apologized for in the message I left on his cell," Dean reminded her.

"'Vampire?'" said Dana skeptically. "That didn't sound like Sam's subconscious, which means it had to come from somewhere."

"Ruby, maybe? Or Lilith? 'Cause it sure as hell didn't come from me."

"Sure about that?"

"What do you think?" Dean growled, advancing on her. Dana didn't back down.

"That's enough, the both of ya," scolded Bobby. "You two are acting like a couple of bratty children. There's an easier way to settle this, you know." He went to the table where the boys' jackets had been left. Locating Sam's, Bobby pulled out his cell phone and turned it on. "Dean, what's your brother's password?"

Knowing what Bobby was looking for, Dean answered, "My birthday. Month and day."

Bobby mentally cursed himself. He should've known. Sam's birthday was probably Dean's password, too. Dialing Sam's voicemail, Bobby entered the password code, turned on the speakerphone, and searched until he found the message he was looking for.

None of them were prepared for what they heard.

"_Listen to me, you bloodsucking freak. Dad always said I'd either have to save you or kill you. Well, I'm giving you fair warning. I'm done trying to save you. You're a monster, Sam. A vampire. You're not you anymore, and there's no going back._"

As soon as the spiteful words had ended, Bobby hung up. He wasn't sure what to think, only that the message contradicted with Dean's version. Dana had winced at hearing the phrase Sam had voiced downstairs. Now she knew where it came from.

Dean was livid. Listening to the message sent ripples of anger coursing through him. He'd never even _thought_ any of that, let alone said them. Sure,driving back to Bobby's after the fight, he had decided to cut his brother out of his life, but he didn't have any intentions to kill him. He just couldn't do that.

Belatedly, he realized he was shaking in rage. Den recalled the conversation between him and Zachariah while the angels had him in lockdown. Zachariah had said he was going to ensure Sam played his role in starting the Apocalypse. He was worried about what that would include, but he never considered the possibility that it could be something like this. Zachariah had shaken his little brother's faith in him. No wonder Sam was so afraid. If he thought Dean wanted to kill him…

"Zachariah," growled Dean as he clenched his hands into fists. "That son of a bitch!"

"Who's Zachariah?" asked Dana, confused.

"One of the angels, and a real douche bag. If he ever shows his ugly mug around here again, so help me God –"

"You lost me at 'angel,'" Dana said, cutting off Dean's rant.

"It's a long story," said Dean.

"So what's the CliffsNotes version?"

"Angels exist, Lilith breaks the sixty-six seals of Lucifer's prison, the Devil's free, and the Apocalypse is happening now."

Dana's eyes only widened slightly. "Wow. Sorry I asked," she responded dryly.

"Better you know the truth now. We're gonna need all hands on deck if we hope to put Satan back in his place," said Bobby. The phone rang. He crossed over to answer it, leaving the younger two hunters alone.

"I'll give my brother a call, see if he has any suggestions for demon blood withdrawal," said Dana after a moment, pulling out her red Samsung Rant cell phone.

"Yeah, okay. Thanks," nodded Dean. He walked to the hall entrance and leaned against the wall, his head turned in the direction of his little brother.

* * *

Celia Fredricks giggled. Her date had told her he had a surprise, but then blindfolded her so she wouldn't spoil it. "Jackson, where are you taking me?" she asked with a laugh.

"You'll see soon enough," he told her, rolling his eyes. This girl was too perky and extremely annoying, but fortunately very trusting. It made her the perfect offering.

Once he brought her to the clearing that contained his alter, the demon immediately pulled out his knife. He didn't want to attract too much attention during the day.

"Can I look now?" Celia asked excitedly. She was sure whatever Jackson had planned was going to be very romantic.

The demon's eyes became black. "Why not?" he said with a twisted grin. He pulled off the blindfold and slit her throat with the knife before she had a chance to react. The girl fell and her blood soaked the ground, which the demon watched lazily.

* * *

It seemed like Dana had been on the phone forever. Finally, though, she was wrapping it up. "Thanks, Kev. I really appreciate this," she said. "Give Dad my love." A second later, she hung up and turned to Dean. "Okay, my brother gave us a few tips how we can help Sam."

"Good, that's good," Dean said, pushing away from his spot against the wall. "So what do we do first?"

"Sorry, Dean, but Sam's gonna have to wait a moment." Bobby had rejoined them. "That was Rufus. Apparently, there's been some demonic activity in St. Clair, Minnesota. The three of us are the closest hunters who aren't all ready working a job."

"I'll go," said Dana right away. "I was only passing through, anyway."

"I'm not letting you go out there alone with the friggin' Apocalypse looming over our heads," Bobby said. "Dean will go with you."

"What? No!" Dean protested. "I'm not leaving my brother."

"Oh, yes, you are. Sam doesn't want you near him right now. You won't be able to get close to him while he's still in that mindset," explained Bobby. "Take the hunt, get your mind off this for a while. I'm sure Sam will be ready to see ya when you get back. I'll look after him."

Dean considered that. It made sense, as much as he hated to admit it. Sam was afraid of him. He'd do more harm than good by staying. "Fine, but we take my wheels," he consented finally.

"Like we could take my ride? She's not exactly built for two," said Dana with a smile.

Dean stared at her, but she gave him no other information.

A few minutes later, Dean and Dana were approaching the Impala. Dana gazed at it in admiration, allowing her fingers to gently touch the hood. "Been a while since I last saw her. You've really taken good care of her. She looks better than ever."

"Well, yeah," said Dean with a pleased grin. Had to admit, Dana had excellent taste when it came to vehicles.

The two hunters climbed into the car. Dean started the engine and drove off.

* * *

Sam woke up feeling weak and disoriented. He didn't recognize his surroundings and his fuzzy vision didn't help. His body felt numb, like he'd been out in the cold for hours. It was hard to string two thoughts together. What was happening to him?

"It's all right, Sam."

He lifted his head up slightly. A beautiful woman with blonde hair stood before him wearing a white gown. She was so familiar.

"J – Jess?" Sam stuttered hoarsely.

Jess smiled at him as she walked closer. "You don't have to be afraid. You're going to be fine," she said softly.

Sam wasn't sure he understood what she meant by that. But she was so calm, and he had always trusted her without question. Why stop now?

"It's time to come home, Sam," whispered Jess, fingering his bangs delicately.

Come home? He wasn't home? He had thought he was. "I don't –" Sam began to say.

"Everyone's waiting for you, Sam. Don't fight it. Just let go," Jess encouraged. "I'll be there when you do."

She leaned over and kissed him. He closed his eyes, savoring the moment. It was a memory he'd refuse to let go of. But all too suddenly, it was over. He opened his eyes.

Jess was gone.

And Sam mourned her once more.

* * *

Upon their arrival at St. Clair, Dean and Dana stopped at a motel for the night, getting two separate rooms for privacy. The next morning after they checked out, Dana got a hold of a local newspaper. She flipped through it in the car while Dean refilled the tank at the first gas station he saw.

"Demon's been pretty sloppy. Five girls have disappeared over the course of a week. Everyone the police interviewed said that the girls had gone out with the same guy. Jackson Ames. And, considering the police have no evident to connect him with the disappearances and no way of even finding him, I'd say he's our demon," summarized Dana.

"You're right. He made it way too easy," Dean agreed.

"It's almost like he wants us to find him," said Dana, "which means it's probably a trap. Great."

"Any idea where he's been taking these girls?" Dean asked, climbing back into the car.

"The first victim, Joanne Robinson, was last seen in Memorial Park, arm-in-arm with a guy the night she disappeared," said Dana, pointing to the related content in the article.

"Sounds like as good a place as any to start looking," said Dean. He put the key in the ignition.

An hour later, Dean parked the car around the corner from the park entrance. It was still daylight, so they needed to be as inconspicuous as possible. Dean popped the trunk and pulled out the false bottom. Quickly, assessing what he had to work with, he pulled out a handgun and a shotgun, his flask of holy water, the salt container, John's journal (where they kept a copy of the exorcism they usually relied on), and Ruby's knife.

Dana, who had all her stuff packed in her bag ready to go at all times, stared at him. "You know a knife won't do much good against a demon," she reminded.

"This ain't no ordinary knife," Dean explained. "Got it from the bitch that got Sam hooked on demon blood. Worked well enough on her."

Dana nodded in understanding as she watched Dean pack his bag. "So, I heard you did some time in Hell," she said to change the subject. She wished she hadn't, though, when she saw him tense up.

"Who told you that?" Dean asked through clenched teeth.

"Sam. When he called, I asked how you two were doing, figured Dad would wanna know. He said you'd just gotten out and didn't remember anything. Dad thought you might've been lying for Sam's sake."

Dean cleared his throat. "Yeah, sort of," he offered as an explanation. Wanting to stop her before she dove too deep, he added, "All right. Let's go." With that, Dean slammed the trunk shut.

* * *

Sam struggled to stay asleep. Thoughts and fears filled his mind and clouded his rational thought when he was awake. He didn't want to think, he didn't want to feel. He just wanted it to be over.

Unbeknownst to him, a mysterious figure had appeared in the room. It was a man who looked to be in his early forties. He had brown hair and dark eyes. He wore black dress pant, a charcoal dress shirt, and a black overcoat. The man's face was void of emotion as he walked over to the bed in the center of the panic room.

The young man before him was clearly dying. The addiction had taken its toll on Sam's body. Unfortunately, the effort it took to kill Lilith hadn't made things any easier. All this time without satisfying the craving was causing his vital organs to work overtime, especially his heart, which was exhausted and failing.

That was about to change.

From his coat pocket, the man pulled out a corked vial. It was filled with a dark red liquid. Carefully, the man uncorked the vial and reached out to grab the young hunter's jaw. Upon feeling the strange touch and not recognizing it, Sam started to squirm.

"N – no… no…" he moaned weakly.

The man seized his opportunity. Firmly grasping Sam's jaw so he wouldn't close it, he poured the demon blood into his open mouth. Allowing his jaw to close, the man gently massaged is throat to ensure he swallowed it. The effect was almost instantaneous. Sam breathes a soft sigh.

"Dean…" he murmured as he drifted into a more peaceful slumber.

The man returned the empty vial to his pocket. "I'm watching over you, Samuel," he promised before disappearing into thin air.

* * *

Dean and Dana moved silently through the park, following the path. It wasn't too crowded, but there were plenty of people around. It forced them to keep their voices down, not only so as to avoid scaring the civilians, but the demon could be in anyone.

"Are you sure we're not just going in circles? I swear we passed that tree at least three times," Dean grumbled impatiently.

"We're in a park, Dean. The chances of some of these trees looking exactly alike are pretty high," said Dana with a roll of her eyes. He had a point, though. This was becoming tedious.

Or maybe not.

"Wait, right there." She pointed to a spot just left of the path. "See the break in the trees? That looks like an unmarked path."

Dean saw it now, too. He approached the new trail and knelt down to examine the dirt. "Footprints. And they're fresh," he confirmed. He straightened up and pulled out his handgun. He turned to look at Dana to see her prep her own silver 9mm handgun. Nodding, Dean led the way down the trail.

The further they walked, the more likely it seemed they were on the right track. It was becoming more and more secluded. Dana could practically feel her skin crawl. Dean was tense, but ready to strike at a moment's notice. He knew Dana was right in assuming it was a trap.

Finally, they came to an abandoned clearing. There was literally nothing in sight. The two hunters glanced around cautiously as they explored the area, on the lookout for the demon. The grass was disturbed every few feet by dark bloodstains, five of them in all, so large they could only have been caused by bleeding a person completely dry. Then Dana noticed something else.

"Oh, shit," she swore.

"What is it?" asked Dean, walking over to where she stood at the center of the bloodstains.

"These herbs. Absinthe, crab apple, Devil's shoestring, wisteria, celandine, acanthus." Dana looked around, pointing as she spoke. "Five blood stains, each located equidistant from each other and the center of the clearing." She met Dean's eyes. "It's a ritual."

"What's it do?" Dean asked right away.

"That's a secret."

Dean and Dana spun around. A man was standing less than a foot away. He had dark hair, dark eyes, and wore a nice shirt and a nice pair of pants. His eyes flashed black as he leered at them, forcing the hunters to raise their weapons threateningly.

"Well, well, well. Dean Winchester and Dana Addleman," the demon said. "This is a surprise. Didn't expect the two of you to be working together, though I suppose it makes sense, since you are two of the best hunters out there."

"Flattery will get you no where," warned Dana.

"So I've heard. And where's Sam? I wanted to offer him my gratitude for letting out the boss."

Dean went completely rigid, his glare becoming hard and cold. A demon's gratitude was the last thing Sam needed right now.

Dana, on the other hand, was confused. "What are you talking about?" she demanded to know.

"Dean didn't tell you?" The demon looked pleased by the prospect. "Lucifer's out of his cage. Lilith's death broke the final seal. And Sam Winchester was the only one strong enough to do it."

Fury raged through Dana as she turned to the oldest Winchester. "_Sam_ unleashed Lucifer? Your _brother_?"

"Dana, not now," said Dean firmly.

"Were you even gonna tell me?" she asked.

"It wasn't any of your business."

"Not my business? It's the Apocalypse, Dean, it's everyone's business!" she exclaimed. Then it hit her. "Oh, my God. The demon blood. That's how Sam got addicted. He drank the blood to get stronger. So he could break the sixty-sixth seal."

"He didn't know Lilith was the final seal," defended Dean as he fought to control his temper.

"Oh, and I'm supposed to believe that?" yelled Dana. "You really think I'd believe you after you lied?"

"It's the truth."

"Or maybe it's just what Sam told you. And of course you, thinking he's some kind of a saint, trust him. Didn't even question it."

Her words hit all the wrong nerves. Dean knew if she kept pushing, he'd snap.

"God, I really, _really_ didn't want to believe him, but Gordon Walker hit the nail right on the head. Sam _is_ the Antichrist, isn't he?" wondered Dana angrily.

"_Shut up_!" Dean turned and marched over to her so fast she lowered her gun in shock. "You say one more thing against my brother, and I'll run you through. Ya got me? You have no idea what he's been through, what those sons of bitches have done to him! Sam's a good kid. I should know, I practically raised him. He doesn't have an evil bone in his body. He made a mistake, that's all. I'm not saying he's perfect. But he's not evil. And I will not let you talk about him like that."

Dana stared in stunned silence. She didn't know what to say. Dean's reaction had been drastic. In a flash, he'd gone from ruthless hunter to overprotective big brother. It was like watching a mother bear defending her cub. And it made Dana feel guilty as hell and ashamed of her behavior.

Unfortunately, now that both of them were distracted, the demon was able to make his move. He tackled Dean from behind, causing the hunter to grunt and drop his gun. Dana gasped, raising her weapon, but it was impossible to get a clean shot.

Dean swung his elbow into the guy's gut, but the demon's grip only loosened slightly. He tried to reach for Ruby's knife. It was only in his back pocket. The demon sensed his movement and pulled out his own knife. Seeing it, Dean managed to turn himself around so he could grab the demon's arm. They struggled over for the knife for a minute before Dana saw her opening. She aimed true and fired, hitting the demon in his shoulder. The demon arched and pulled away from Dean. The knife, however, jerked and slashed through Dean's clothing, drawing blood and making him gasp sharply.

Blood flowed down his arm, and a single drop hit the grass dead center of the pentagram the bloodstains created.

The ground beneath them began to tremble. All three glanced down. The Earth began to crack and a red-orange glow could be seen beneath the freshly broken dirt.

"Oh, now what?" groaned Dean. Lucifer was all ready free, so what could be the cause of this?

"What the hell?" asked Dana.

The demon, however, gazed up at Dean, confused and alarmed at the same time. This wasn't possible. This sixth blood offering was supposed to be…

"You have got to be kidding me," the demon whispered.

Dean didn't like the look he was getting. "Guess the joke's on you, then," he quipped. He pulled out Ruby's knife and advanced before the demon could move. The human body flashed red as the demon within was destroyed. It collapsed and moved no more just as a cloud of black smoke rose from the cracks and disappeared into the sky.

Dana glanced over at Dean. He looked back at her, unable to explain it either.

* * *

They arrived back at Bobby's later that evening, Dean having driven like a madman. Something else had gotten out of Hell, and he was determined to find out what. Dana was quiet, too, reflecting on what had happened the last two days. Her life hadn't been hectic enough, now Lucifer had to add to it? But she definitely wanted in this war. She wouldn't abandon the human race now.

Dean parked the Impala just outside Bobby's house. The two hunters got out. As he started for the door, Dana called out, "Dean."

He stopped, his back to her, waiting to see what she'd say.

"I'm sorry," she said finally. "You were right. I don't know what you and Sam have been through. I shouldn't have said what I did."

Dean sighed and faced her slowly. "Thank you," he accepted. "So, how well did you know Gordon?"

"Dad hunted with him once or twice. Enough that Gordon was sure he'd have an ally when he told him about hunting Sam. Too bad he didn't realize Dad and John were old friends. He never believed a word Gordon or any other hunters had to say about Sam."

"Other hunters?" Dean asked quickly.

"Yeah, Gordon had quite a few convinced that Sam was going to turn on us," Dana told him reluctantly.

"That's just great," scoffed Dean.

"Well, I wasn't one of them. I just jumped to the wrong conclusion," explained Dana.

Silence fell between them once more. Dean thought about how best to thank her for her help. Despite the argument, she had really shown him just how good she was at the job. Dana was as skilled a hunter as he and Sam were.

"Oh, I almost forgot," said Dana suddenly. She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. "Kevin told me to give you this."

"What is it?" asked Dean, taking the paper from her.

"A variation of the Twelve Step Program," Dana replied. "It's the one for Recoveries Anonymous. They work with people who have any sort of self-destructive behavior problems. It should work for Sam."

"Thanks." Dean pocketed the cherished information.

"You know, one of the steps includes forgiveness, Dean. You've both done some pretty rotten things to each other lately, and, regardless of whose fault it was, you need to forgive each other. It's important to Sam's recovery."

"Okay," Dean said, more than willing to accept the terms. "Anything to cure him."

"There is no cure for an addiction. He'll learn to live with the temptations, but he won't ever be cured," said Dana sadly.

Dean swallowed. That hadn't been what he wanted to hear. He had really hoped Sam wouldn't have to deal with this ever again.

The front door opened, and Bobby stepped out into view. "It's about time you two got back. I was just gonna call," he said.

"Everything okay?" asked Dana.

"Yeah, it's just Sam's been asking for his brother for over an hour," Bobby explained.

"He has?" Dean felt some hope rise within him. Did that mean Sam was getting better? That he was no longer scared?

"You should go," said Dana. "Your brother needs you. And I should be getting home, anyway."

"Sure you don't wanna stay for the night, Dana?" asked Bobby.

"I'll stop at a motel a little later," she said. "It was really great to meet you, Dean."

"Yeah, you too. Will we see you around?" he couldn't help asking.

"I'd say it's possible," smiled Dana. She turned and walked over to her ride – a 1995 Harley Davidson Custom 1200 Sportster in candy apple red.

"_That's_ your bike?" Dean said incredulously.

"Got it when it first came out. Dad bought it for me when I turned eighteen."

It didn't take long to process that surprising bit of information. "You're _older_ than me?"

"Only by about a year." Dana got on the Harley. "See you, Dean." She put on her helmet, revved up the bike, and took off down the road.

Dean stared after her for a moment before shaking his head and grinning. "Well, I'll be damned," he muttered. Bobby laughed as Dean turned and went inside.

He headed straight down to the panic room. Sam was sleeping when he got there, but Dean didn't care. There'd be time to talk later. Right now, he was glad to see Sam's color looked much better.

"Hey ya, Sammy," he said, gripping his brother's shoulder.

That's when he saw it. Something wet on the bottom of Sam's lip. Dean gently wiped it off with his thumb. It was warm and crimson red.

Blood…

Dean's eyes roamed around the _demon-proof_ panic room, his face hardened in anger.

**CREATOR**  
**ERIC KRIPKE**

**EXECUTIVE PRODUCERS**  
**ERIC KRIPKE**  
**ROBERT SINGER**

**FANFICTION STORY**  
**JAKE THE FEARLESS LEADER**

_Sam raises his hands to his temples, groaning..._

_Dean asking Sam if he had a vision..._

_A man's skin is covered by black veins..._

_Sam staring at the fresh demon blood on the ground..._


	3. 5 03

**Disclaimer**: Supernatural and all related characters and past story plots belong to it's creator, Eric Kripke, his team, and Warner Brothers. I am making no profit from this story whatsoever. Dana Addleman and all original characters, however, are mine and anyone who wishes to borrow will need to ask my permission to do so.

Furthermore, I claim no ownership over the rock song used in the first scene between the brothers.

**Author's Note**: I am formatting this based on the show, which means that actors and creators will be mentioned in their starring roles, including casting various other actors and actresses into the roles of my original characters who will appear throughout the story. I have no clue if this violates any legal rights, so if this does get taken down because of it, I will adjust the story and repost as quickly as possible. To that end, each chapter will also flow like an episode of the series. The bad guy of the chapter will be put to rest, but there will be a long theme that covers the entire story.

I'm so sorry about the extended break. This episode was a nightmare to work out the kinks with and then I had to deal with stuff going on at work. Oi. Not to mention the stupidity that is so far Season 5. I mean, I know things usually have to get worse before they get better, but Dean has OFFICIALLY hit rock bottom. At this point, there ain't no where to go but up! Anyway, I promise to post more often from now on.

BTW, Artemis, what you said about my mind being made up, you're right. It sort of is, but I'm not telling you what the outcome is going to be. I have changed my mind about a few things since the first episode, though, but since I'm still not sure how far I'm taking this, we'll just have to see what comes of it.

So here's Episode 3. I hope you all enjoy. When you have finished reading, please click the icon at the bottom of the screen and leave a review. I'd love to hear from you. Flames are welcome and will be used to light a fire under Dean's ass (seriously, love Jensen Ackles - have since he was Eric Brady on Days of Our Lives - but not too thrilled with Dean right now).

* * *

**THEN**

_A bright, white light shines from a circle of blood. Sam and Dean Winchester stare at it in fear, gripping each other's jackets.  
"Lucifer's free… and I let him out…"_

_Dean opens a door to reveal an attractive blonde woman in her early thirties.  
"Dean, this is Dana Addleman."  
Dana's eyes widen as she realizes who she's talking to.  
"__**You're**__ Dean Winchester?"_

_Dean, Castiel, and Chuck stand on the side of the road outside a cemetery.  
"…what happened to Lucifer?"  
"He is out there, seeking his vessel."  
"We just twiddle our thumbs while the world goes to Hell?"_

_Dean and Sam sit on their respective motel beds. Sam is hunched over and rigid, grasping the edge of the bed with one hand and his fingers trying to drill into his forehead with the other. He pants in pain, groaning as he slides to the floor.  
"Ah! Ya – my head!"  
"Sam?"  
Sam continues to groan, gripping his head with both hands as Dean rushes to his side. He grabs Sam's upper arms. Sam reaches out to Dean.  
"I have these nightmares... and sometimes, they come true?"  
_

_Dean stares at his brother, not sure if he's serious or not.  
"Come again?"  
_

_Sam stands rigid in pain. Dean grabs his brother by the arms and supports him as Sam's legs refuse to hold him up. Both end up on the ground.  
"I dreamed about Jessica's death for days before it happened."_

_Sam and Andy Gallagher are talking.  
"You get these premonitions of people about to die?"  
"Yeah."  
"Dude, that sucks."_

_The three Winchesters talk in their room in Salvation.  
"…these things happen exactly the way I see them."  
"Started out as nightmares, and then they started happening while he was awake."  
"It's like the closer I get to anything involving the demon, the stronger the visions get."_

_Dana watches as Dean preps his weapons bag.  
"So, I heard you did some time in Hell."  
"Who told you that?"  
"Sam."_

_Dean and Ruby talk outside the Conquistador Motel.  
"So all of them, every damn demon? They were all human once?"  
"Every one I've ever met… Might take centuries, but sooner or later, Hell will burn away your humanity."_

_Dean and the demon Casey talk about higher powers.  
"Lucifer's really __**real**__?"  
"They say that he made us into what we are, and that he'll return."_

_Dean and Dana confront the demon attacking women in St. Clare, Minnesota.  
"Dean Winchester and Dana Addleman… Didn't expect the two of you to be working together."_

_Dean and Dana argue.  
"__**Sam**__ unleashed Lucifer?"  
"It wasn't any of your business."  
"It's the Apocalypse, Dean, it's everyone's business!"  
Dean gets in her face.  
"You say one more thing against my brother, and I'll run you through. Ya got me?"_

_The demon's knife slashes Dean's arm, drawing blood and making him gasp sharply._

_A cloud of black smoke rises from the cracked Earth and vanishes into the sky._

_Dean is with Sam in the panic room. He wipes some blood off his little brother's lip. Dean looks around, pissed.  
"I'm watching over you, Samuel."_

**NOW**

It was never a big fishing area, but there was something about the Sanish Bay that attracted them. It was a peaceful place, great for relaxing for hours at a time. The two seasoned fishermen, both in their early fifties, came here often when they needed to restock their supplies.

One of the men looked out at the water as his friend gathered the last of their gear. "Certainly is a beautiful day, huh, Charlie?" he spoke up.

"Ah, yeah. The fish'll really be biting," laughed Charlie. "Now aren't you glad I talked ya into coming out today, Pete?"

"Conditions would've been just as good tomorrow," Pete defended.

Charlie closed the trunk. "Well, come on. Let's get fishing."

Soon they were out on the water in a rented motorboat. It hadn't taken long to find a good spot. The two men had all ready caught several fish apiece. Pete was just about to cast his line again when he saw something floating in the water next to the boat. Curious, he leaned over carefully and pulled it out of the bay. It was a dead fish, but the still slightly red coloring helped him easily identify it.

"Hey, Charlie. Look at this," said Pete as he turned to show his friend his discovery.

Charlie was just as surprised. "Holy crap, Pete. That's a red mullet, ain't it? They aren't supposed to be found anywhere near here," he said.

"I know. How do ya suppose it got here?" Pete asked.

"Beats the hell out of me," shrugged Charlie. He gazed back at his line to see if he had a bite, but what he saw instead distracted him. "What the – ?"

Pete followed his friend's look. His stomach churned uneasily at the sight.

Thousands of fish floated on the surface of the Sanish Bay. All red mullets. All dead.

* * *

It was a quiet night in town. Everyone in the residential neighborhoods was either asleep or watching the news. A young couple had just put their young toddler back to bed after a midnight feeding. Now they retired to their room and prepared to turn in.

That's when the neighbor's dog started howling.

"That's odd. Pebbles hardly ever barks," said the wife, perplexed.

"Probably saw a shadow or something," her husband said with a shrug.

The couple climbed into bed and turned off the lights. Five minutes later, Pebbles was still howling, and two more dogs had joined her. Another three howls joined them bringing the total up to six.

"What's up with them?" asked the husband as the baby started crying in the other room.

"Don't know," said his wife. She got up and put on her robe before leaving the room. "I'd say they sound like coyotes, but there's no moon tonight."

The husband stood up and went to the window. Everything looked so normal. He couldn't see what could be upsetting the dogs.

The six dogs were soon joined by others and even more after that. It didn't matter how many angry neighbors shouted at each other to keep their pets quiet or how many complaints were received by the police department. It wasn't long before every dog in town was awake and howling. They carried on well past midnight, their howls echoing throught the night. The new moon was out that night, so only the stars could twinkle in response to the hounds.

_Blood splatters across the screen, quickly fading to form the words._

**SUPERNATURAL**

_Static makes the words flicker and eventually fade._

The back roads were always empty and deserted, which was how Dean preferred it. He could drive however he wanted without worrying about being pulled over. He also didn't have to worry about careless drivers who could potentially hurt his baby.

**ONCE YOU LOSE YOUR HEART**

The 1967 Chevy Impala made it's way down the road. The state line was coming up, and as much as Dean liked spending time at the Singer Salvage Yard, he couldn't wait to get out of South Dakota.

It had been a long five months. Sam had spent most of May and June locked up in the panic room, which was longer than cold turkey should have been. But it hadn't been cold turkey. Someone was still giving Sam demon blood from inside the panic room. Dean was almost sure it was an angel, but there was no way to know for sure. All he ever saw was the red on his brother's lips. He'd tried to call Castiel, but the angel never responded, and Dean nearly ended up with laryngitis after three straight nights of shouting himself hoarse. Over time, it seemed to be happening less frequently and then it stopped all together. It was clear that someone had intervened in order to wean the younger Winchester off the addiction, despite what both brothers had wanted.

And then there were the constant calls from Dana Addleman. She kept coming up with new information on recovering addicts. All of her recommendations had been followed to the letter as soon as Sam was able to leave the panic room. The five months had been spent hunt-free for two reasons: to ensure a limited risk of accidentally stumbling on a demon before Sam was ready, and to provide him with as little stress as possible.

Finally, there was the Twelve Step Program to consider. Sam wanted to start before he was even out of the panic room, and Bobby pointed out that he all ready had just by asking for help, so they managed to hold him off until he was ready to rejoin the outside world. One of the steps had required Sam to have a sponsor, but since none of them knew if there was anyone else who had suffered from a demon blood addiction, Dean offered to take on that role.

The brothers slowly worked through their issues. Sam confessed that ever since losing Jessica and realizing he had visions, he felt like his life was spinning out of control. Dean's death and going to Hell had been the final straw. By agreeing to let Ruby help him help develop his powers, it was a way for him to take back control. Dean understood and even forgave him for just trying to deal with a bad situation, explaining that he'd only been worried about Sam. He also told the younger Winchester what Zachariah had done to the phone messages, which Sam had been thoroughly stunned by. But hearing the true message his brother had left made him feel slightly better.

Sam's recovery during those months had gone well, and by October, he felt ready to venture out on the road again. So Dean had packed them both up and, after saying goodbye to Bobby, the Winchesters drove away. The sounds of AC/DC's "It's a Long Way to the Top" was blasting through the car as it cruised down the empty road.

"'It's a long way to the top if you wanna rock n' roll. It's a long way to the top if you wanna rock n' roll. If you think it's easy doin' one night stands, try playin' in a rock roll band. It's a long way to the top if you wanna rock n' roll,'" Dean sang along loudly.

Sam glanced over at his brother and grinned. "You're in a good mood."

"Why shouldn't I be?" asked Dean with a grin. "I'm behind the wheel of my baby, I got my music. All I need now is some food and a job."

"We just ate three hours ago," said Sam incredulously.

"What's your point, Sammy?"

**STARRING**  
**JARED PADALECKI**

Sam shook his head as he looked back out the windshield. "Well, I checked the paper this morning before we left Bobby's and there's nothing. No mysterious deaths, no noticeable demonic omens," he said. "It's quiet, almost too quiet considering it's the end of the world."

"Like they're getting ready for something big," observed Dean.

"What about the demon you and Dana saw?" Sam asked, turning his head back to his brother.

**JENSEN ACKLES**

"It took off that night, haven't seen it since. God knows what's been doing the last five months," Dean answered.

Sam nodded, though he quickly wished he hadn't because he could feel a slight pounding in his temple. He raised his right hand to his head and attempted to rub it out. "Maybe it's biding its time, waiting for things to get bad," he suggested.

"That's a comforting thought," said Dean.

"Yeah, tell me about it," agreed Sam. He winced as the pain in his head started intensifying.

**MISHA COLLINS**

"All right, so after we cross the state line, we'll pull into a gas station. Grab some food, a couple of papers, and get back on the road. I mean, maybe you missed something," Dean said.

"I guess," muttered Sam. It was always possible, especially after an extended break.

_...a darkened living room with fashionable furniture…_

Sam winced, closing his eyes as though to process what was happening. All ready his body was tense.

_…a slender hand using an athame to slit open a palm…_

"Gah!" he gasped unconsciously, his hand gripping his pounding head tighter.

Dean, hearing the pain in his brother's voice, turned his head to face him. "Sam?" he questioned.

If Dean's brother heard him, he gave no indication. Instead he groaned, raising his other hand to grip the other side of his head, hunching over with his head down.

"Sam!" Dean turned his attention back to the road, pulling the car off to the side. Once he'd parked and killed the engine, he twisted himself to face Sam and reached over to grab both arms. He gently pulled his little brother's hands away from his face. He was rigid in Deans' grasp.

"Sam?" he asked again, but San didn't react. He stared at the dashboard, his eyes fixated but clearly unseeing.

_…The living room was filled with handsome furniture, but it was dark. None of the lights were on, despite the lateness of the hour._

**GUEST STARRING**  
**GREG VAUGHAN**

_The man stood against the wall, staring at something in front of him. Whatever it was, though, had him spooked. "Please. I don't understand. What do you want from me?"_

_ His questions went unanswered. With words, at least. A slender hand raised an athame to a second, identical hand. Pressing the athame to the palm, the first hand made a shallow slit, just enough for a little blood to seep through._

_ The owner of the athame must have stepped over to the man, because his eyes widened fearfully and he began to tremble. "Stay away, you bitch!" he shouted._

**ELIZA DUSHKU**

_The hand that had been holding the athame reached down to grab the man's left arm. Blood dripped down it from a cut on his bicep. The bleeding palm was placed over the cut so the seeping wounds connected._

_ The man arched suddenly, grunting. His form was completely rigid. Choked sounds came out of his parted lips and his eyes were wide. Black veins slowly began to cover his skin. His brown eyes filled with inky black. His choking became a deep growl as a bunch of dogs barked. The growling grew longer and became a snarl._

_ An envelope sat on the coffee table. The address was for a street in New Town, North Dakota…_

_ …two wounds pressed together, blood mixing…_

_ …the man's black eyes and veined face…_

Sam's eyes rolled back into his head and he pitched forward. Dean quickly grabbed his brother before his head could hit the dashboard. He pushed Sam back against the seat, watching as his body relaxed and his head fell back. His breathing slowed, though his head continued to pound like a bongo drum.

"Sammy?" Dean asked, concerned that Sam hadn't opened his eyes yet. "You okay?"

"Think so," said Sam, opening his eyes slowly to meet his brother's gaze. He felt top heavy and lightheaded at the same time and knew it wouldn't be in his best interest to move just yet.

Dean took in his brother's pale features. "Was that a vision?" he asked, though he all ready knew the answer. He recognized the symptoms, even if they were magnified from the last time it happened.

"Yeah," whispered Sam. His eyes slipped closed again. He took a shaky breath before continuing in a slightly stronger voice. "A guy was being attacked. I don't know by what, but they had an athame. They mixed their blood with his… and he changed."

"What do you mean, 'changed?'" asked Dean, confused.

"His skin was covered in black veins, he growled, his eyes went black – "

"He was possessed?"

"No, just… I don't know. Dean, I've never seen anything like this before," said Sam quietly. He opened his eyes and carefully sat up straight. Dean kept his grip on him tight just in case, but the world didn't spin on its axis, so that was something at least. "We have to stop it."

"Stop it? Sam, we don't even know what 'it' is," exclaimed Dean incredulously.

"Do we ever know what something is when we first go in?" Sam countered. "Something was after that guy, and he was scared."

Sam was giving him that determined "I'm gonna do this with or without your help" look that he'd perfected as a sixteen year old. There was no changing his mind now. He was like John Winchester that way. How it had taken Dean so long to see how much his father and brother were exactly alike he'd never know.

"All right, where are we headed?" Dean asked in resignation. Sam's visions had always given them a clue as to the location in the past.

"New Town, North Dakota." Sam cradled his still aching head in his hand as he propped his arm on the passenger door.

New Town… that was just a few hours from where they were. Dean started up the Impala's engine once more and pulled back onto the road.

* * *

**New Town, North Dakota**

Several hours later, the Impala was cruising down a typical American suburban street. Hard to imagine anything supernatural would occur here. Except it was areas like these that were usually prime suspects for paranormal activity.

Sam had told Dean the exact address once they entered town. After a half hour of searching, they'd found the street. Now, a couple of minutes later, they were pulling up to the house. Stopping across the street, the brothers watched the house critically. The front door opened. A man with brown hair stepped out wearing casual clothing. He carried a plastic bag in one hand and car keys in the other.

"That's him," said Sam.

Dean glanced back at his brother, then turned to the man just as he climbed into his Honda Civic. The brothers watched as he pulled down his driveway and drove down the block. Dean looked around and spotted two neighbors talking nearby.

"First things first. Let's see who this guy is," said Dean.

The brothers got out of the car and crossed the road. "Excuse me," Dean said to draw the neighbor's attention. "Hi. I'm Dean, this is Sam. We're working on a series of articles about the history of small towns in America for National Geographic Traveler."

Both neighbors looked intrigued. "Really? How can we help?" asked one of them, a woman with light brown hair who appeared to be in her forties.

"Well, how long have you lived in the neighborhood, Mrs. – ?" Dean asked, quickly taking in the bands on her ring finger.

"Sullivan," said the woman. "And I've lived here for fifteen years now."

"We've been here the longest," said the other neighbor, also a brunette woman around the same age. "Most of the people who've moved in lately are young couples just starting out. Some of them all ready have kids."

"What about the man who just left? He been here long?" asked Sam casually.

"Ben? He and his wife moved in about a year ago. She just gave birth to twins last Friday," said Mrs. Sullivan excitedly.

Sam felt sick to his stomach. Twins? The man had just become a father and now his whole life was going to be torn away.

"What's Ben like?" asked Dean, trying to sound curious rather than suspicious. Sam said the guy hadn't been possessed, but that didn't completely rule out demonic activity. The man's eyes _had_ gone black.

"Oh, he's wonderful," chirped the other neighbor. "Nicest man you could ever hope to meet. Those last few months Evelyn was carrying those kids, she was a wreck. Mood swings, bizarre cravings in the middle of the night. And, you know, Ben never complained. Not even once. He bent over backwards to make things easier for her."

"And those twins are certainly going to be spoiled rotten. The nursery's all ready filled with boys and girls toys and enough clothing to last the whole year," added Mrs. Sullivan.

"Huh," said Dean with a slight frown. Not exactly the makings of evil incarnate. Then again, it had been the same way with Jack Montgomery a year ago.

"Hey, do you know which hospital his wife's in?" asked Sam, suddenly getting an idea.

* * *

After getting the information they needed from the neighbors, the brothers headed for New Town General Hospital. They went to the maternity ward upon arrival. It was surprisingly easy to find the right room, but that was due in part to the lack of activity in the ward. Dean made a side comment about the women in town keeping their legs crossed before heading to the nurses station to track down medical records. Sam, meanwhile, waited for the opportune moment to corner Ben and got it when the man paced out into the hallway with a pink bundle in his arms. Sam walked by, pretending to be distracted as he gently bumped the father's shoulders.

"Oh! God, I'm sorry," said Sam quickly, turning to Ben.

"It's okay. Don't worry about it," Ben grinned as he rocked the newborn girl gently.

"She's beautiful," complimented Sam as he got his first glimpse of the fair child. He wasn't lying, either.

"Thanks," said Ben. "Her twin brother almost looks exactly like her."

"Fraternal twins?" Sam asked, faking surprise. He all ready knew the genders of the infants based on what Mrs. Sullivan and her friend had told them.

"Yeah. I think they take after my wife, but she swears it's the other way around." He looked up. "I'm Ben, by the way."

"Sam. So, what're their names?"

"Noah's with my wife, and this little one is Hope."

Sam felt his heart clench. Hope was exactly what this family needed right now.

"What about you, Sam? Your wife just give birth?" asked Ben.

Another gut wrenching moment as his thoughts wandered to Jessica. "No, my sister-in-law. I'm just visiting," Sam lied.

Ben nodded in understanding. "Well, she's in good hands. The staff here is excellent. They actually care, you know. It's a large part of the reason I donate money to their children's charity every Christmas," he said.

Sam gave him a small grin, praying it didn't come through as a grimace. Charity work, devoted father, loving husband. What could something do to change all that? If a man like Ben could turn into the horrible monster from Sam's vision, what hope was there for the rest of them? For Sam?

Hope was starting to become fussy. Sam watched as Ben hushed her, muttering a brief "Excuse me" as he brought his daughter back to the room.

* * *

Dean checked them into the cheapest motel he could find as evening came. The hospital records didn't give him that much information, but at least they had the basics.

"Benjamin Edwards, born April 8, 1973, blood type AB negative. Frequent participant in blood drives, hospital volunteer." Dean shook his head as he placed the borrowed files on the table. "Guy's a regular Good Samaritan."

Sam nodded in agreement from his spot on the bed. "Do you think that's what made him a target?"

"Dunno, maybe. I mean, if this thing's trying to change people into monsters, it might get it's kicks going after folks like this," said Dean.

The younger hunter sighed softly. "Makes sense," he said. "Now all we gotta do is find a way to stop it."

"Yeah, well, the internet search came up with jack squat," Dean told him as he indicated the laptop. "What about the library?"

"Nothing, it was a dead end. There's nothing even remotely similar to this in any occult book ever written," informed Sam.

"And you're positive you don't have any idea what this thing looks like?"

"Didn't get a good look." Sam watched his brother carefully, waiting for the inevitable.

Dean had glanced down at the hospital records again. He could feel Sam's eyes on him, knew he was expecting that talk they'd have to have at some point, but not right now. Dean wasn't ready to deal with it yet, and he certainly didn't want to think about it.

"All right, well, Benny-boy usually stays at the hospital all night. Only leaves to go to work or pick up something for his wife," Dean said after a moment.

"And how'd ya find that out?" Sam had to ask, even though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

"Traci, with an 'i,' the beautiful nurse in the maternity ward. Blonde hair, green eyes, Gemini, got a body for days – "

" – which means you got her phone number," translated Sam knowingly.

"Well, what could I do? She practically threw it into my hand," Dean said with an innocent grin.

Sam shook his head exasperatedly. Of all the things Hell had taken from his brother, his attraction to the opposite sex hadn't been one of them. If anything, Dean had gotten worse.

"So, if the Edwards' house is going to be empty tonight, seems like the perfect chance to do a little recon," continued Dean, returning to the hunt. "Maybe there's something that'll tell us why this thing's after him."

Sam nodded in agreement.

* * *

Late that night found the Winchesters scaling the Edwards' fence and picking the lock on the back door. No alarm sounded, which wasn't too surprising in a small town like this. Major crime mostly kept to the shopping districts, and even those were random.

Flashlights on, the brothers started looking around. They were standing in the kitchen and dining room. Dean let Sam take point, since he had seen the house before, even if just in a vision. The younger hunter led the way slowly toward the living room, looking everywhere. The light fell on various pieces of furniture: tables, chairs, sofas, an entertainment unit, picture frames, bookshelves. The plate of chocolate chip cookies lay abandoned on the coffee table, stale by now. The sight of them nearly shattered Sam's still broken heart.

The living room held so many reminders of Jessica.

Dean was oblivious to his little brother's pain, having only seen the apartment his brother shared with his girlfriend for a few minutes four years ago. He was more interested in finding out as much as he could about Ben Edwards. He looked at the pictures on the walls and shelves. There were photos of Ben and a woman who was obviously his wife, his elderly parents, and a group of guys who must have been his friends from work or college. Completely normal.

There had been a time in his life where a house like this would have made Dean cringe. He had this life once, but then his mom had died and his dad had told him what was out there. Life on the road became about finding the monster that killed Mary and keeping Sammy safe. A two-story house with a white picket fence had become too risky, meant unwanted people knew where to find them, people like Child Protective Services, who could take him and Sammy away from John, and then send the brothers to separate foster homes. Dean wouldn't let that happen, and so permanent residences were outlawed in his book.

All that changed, however, when he met up with Lisa Braden again and discovered she had a child, a son that could so easily have been Dean's. Within that brief moment, all he wanted was somewhere that his boy could be raised, a safe and stable environment. Somewhere to call home besides an old car and a little brother. The idea had stuck with him a long time, leading up to and after the forty years in Hell. Dean doubted if he'd ever live long enough to have a family of his own, but if he did, he wanted to settle down in a nice neighborhood somewhere…

…not that he'd ever admit it.

Sam lingered by the coffee table, looking over the various envelopes. They were mostly bills, though Sam recognized the letter from his vision.

"Think it's safe to say the thing hasn't been here. No ozone, no sulfur, no blood. Anything on the EMF?" asked Dean.

Sam pulled the meter out of his pocket. It was silent. "No, nothing," he replied. He glanced around the room at large. "There's got to be something we're missing."

"Or maybe there's nothing to find yet. I mean, there's no signs that a crossroads deal has been made, even when there's a body," Dean said.

"We're not dealing with a crossroads demon, Dean. Ben's not going to Hell."

"Not all deals kill people, Sam. What happened to you is proof of that."

Sam stiffened, but then forced himself to relax. His brother hadn't meant anything by that, was only using it as an example. Dean didn't blame him for Azazel's actions and never would.

He was about to suggest they check upstairs when something caught his eye. Staring in confusion, Sam crossed to the bay window that looked out over the front lawn.

"What the hell?" he wondered aloud.

Dean looked up. He knew that tone. Sam had found something. "What?" he asked, crossing over to the window to join his brother.

Sam was staring at the bushes that were just below the bay window. They were average bushes with exotic-looking flowers – white petals and stamens. Sure, they were nice, but so was most of nature. Dean couldn't see what had captured his brother's attention like this.

"Selenicereus Grandiflorus," whispered Sam.

"Selena Grandi-what?" Dean asked.

"Selenicereus Grandiflorus. It's the Latin name for the Queen of the Night. It's a really rare flower," explained Sam.

Dean gave him a look. "Dude, I don't know you sometimes."

Sam winced slightly. "Jess took a botany class as an elective," he explained. "It's weird, though."

"Why?"

"The Queen of the Night's only found in the deserts in southwestern United States and northwestern Mexico. And it's now a protected plant, which means it only grows on a reservation."

"So?" asked Dean in confusion.

"So it only blooms once a year." Sam gave him a pointed look. "At the end of June, beginning of July."

End of June, beginning of July… and it was now October. Dean instantly realized what his little brother was telling him.

The flowers were a sign.

* * *

The ride back to the motel seemed to take no time at all. Sam unlocked and opened the door, still concerned about the Queen of the Night flowers. He knew there was some significance of their presence, besides obviously whatever they were after, but he couldn't remember what.

Dean closed the door behind him and started pulling off his leather jacket as he said, "Well, that was a waste of time." He tossed the jacket onto the nearby table. "Besides a bunch of out-of-season flowers, we got jack squat."

"It's still more than we had before. I mean, for all we know, those flowers may help us identify this thing," said Sam, facing his brother.

"Ah, come on, Sammy, what are the chances of that?" Dean exclaimed, throwing his arms out in emphasis.

"Dad used to take hunts with just as much to go on, sometimes less, and he'd have it figured out in less than twenty-four hours," Sam reminded him.

Dean sighed. "Yeah, and he didn't have any freaky visions to help him out." He sat down on the edge of his bed. "Okay. I'll call Bobby, see if he's ever heard of something like this."

He reached into his pocket to pull out his cell. Sam watched him silently. _Freaky visions_? Sam heard him clear as a bell, whether Dean realized it or not. It wasn't like it was Sam's fault that he was having visions again. He didn't understand it. He had stopped drinking demon blood. His powers should have been dormant again, yet they apparently weren't. How was that possible?

It took a moment before he finally spoke. "When are we gonna talk about it?"

Dean nearly froze, glancing briefly at his brother. Nothing good could come from _that_ question. "Talk about what?" he feigned ignorance.

Sam wasn't fooled for an instant. He knew Dean, knew his brother preferred to bottle up his feelings and never talk about certain things, but now was not the time for that. Sam needed his brother to help him, not just with stopping the vision. Dean had been supportive and there for him during the rehab. Sam needed him to be there once more.

"About the fact that I'm having visions again," he answered quietly.

_Crap_, Dean cursed silently, lowering his cell phone to his leg. He didn't want to talk about this right now. "Sam –" he began aloud.

"I don't know why they're back, Dean. I mean, the last time I had a vision was months before we killed Yellow Eyes. And after that, they were gone. Ruby said they were dormant along with the rest of my abilities."

"Yeah, but those return as soon as you drink demon blood," Dean reminded him automatically.

Sam sighed heavily. Of course Dean would suspect him of falling off the wagon, even though he knew Sam hadn't left Bobby's property during the five months they were staying there. "You know I'm clean, man," he said in a soft voice.

Dean looked over at his brother quickly, taking in the hurt expression on Sam's face. _Nice, Dean, way to be supportive_, he thought. "I know, Sammy. Besides, it's not like you exactly needed the blood to have these visions the first time. Maybe there's another factor involved. Maybe it has something to do with Lucifer being out," he backtracked.

"Because I let him out," said Sam, feeling the guilt twist tightly in his gut. It happened frequently, sometimes a slight twinge, others as nauseating as the moment he realized Ruby betrayed him. Nothing could make it go away.

"You weren't the only one who wanted Lilith dead," Dean said. "She sicced a hellhound on my ass. I wanted to gank her on principle alone. If Cas hadn't said anything, I'd never have known what the final seal even _was_."

Sam knew Dean was right, but it didn't make him feel any better. He swallowed hard against the wave of sickness assaulting him. That was something he'd been doing a lot as of late. In the first few days after leaving his solitary confinement, he'd been unable to stop himself from throwing up. Five months later, it was easier to keep down the contents of his stomach, meager as they were. That was the other thing that went along with the constant nausea – no appetite. If Dean had noticed, he hadn't said anything. Bobby had tried to encourage him to eat, and while Sam appreciated the attention and care, he just couldn't do it.

Dean seemed to sense what was going through his head because his brother hardened his voice in preparation for the coming argument. "Sam –"

"Uh, you know what, I think I'll search for any connection that the Queen of the Night might have to supernatural occurrences while you're on the phone," interrupted Sam quickly. He really wasn't in the mood to fight with the older hunter.

Dean raised his eyebrows. That was unexpected. When had Sam ever changed a subject so abruptly like that? That was usually Dean's thing. Not to mention this was something Sam had brought up, which meant it had to be bothering him, and now he was desperate to avoid it? There was no way Dean could let Sam keep dwelling on this, but maybe now wasn't the best time. They were up against the clock with no clue how much time they had left. He had no choice but to follow Sam's lead…

…for now.

"Yeah, okay," Dean said as he stood up and turned towards the table –

– and found Castiel standing an inch from his face.

Dean jumped, inhaling sharply. Sam's head shot up, his body automatically tense and his hand halfway toward the gun he had yet to remove from his jeans pocket, but instantly relaxed at the sight of the angel.

Dean glared. "Cas, do we have to go through this every time?" he demanded without expecting an answer.

Castiel just stared at him blankly before turning his eyes to his little brother. "Sam. I'm glad to see you're feeling better," he said.

Sam suppressed a wince. The last time he'd seen Castiel had been just as the hallucinations were starting up. Instead, he nodded. "Yeah, much," he managed roughly.

The angel watched the younger hunter curiously for a moment, analyzing what he saw. It was true that Sam was looking better. The addiction was clearly under control, but that didn't mean he wasn't still suffering. However it happened, the boy had broken the final seal. Castiel remembered Dean's reaction to learning he'd broken the first seal. He'd quickly become so defeated and depressed that Zachariah had felt the need to intervene. But Sam was different. Filled with guilt, yes, but trying to hide it behind the stoic expression he'd perfected to deal with being the last Winchester standing for four months. He would have to be monitored closely for signs that he was having trouble dealing with the consequences of his mistakes.

Castiel turned to face Dean. "We've sensed a great disturbance in this town, but we don't know what's causing it," he explained. "What did you come here to hunt?"

"Actually, we don't know," admitted Dean frankly.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" asked Castiel, confused. "What brought you here?"

The brothers exchanged wary glances at each other. There was just no way of knowing how their new friend was going to react to the news that the younger hunter was having visions again. Sam took a deep breath. His vision, his responsibility.

"I… had a vision," Sam told the angel reluctantly.

Dean felt himself tense up as Castiel's eyes focused on his little brother. His expression was – surprise, surprise – unreadable, but he could have sworn he saw a hint of something flash in the blue eyes for a moment.

"A vision?" clarified Castiel.

"Yeah," nodded Sam.

Castiel processed this new information quickly. He was surprised that he hadn't considered the option of the youngest Winchester having a heads up on the situation.

"What did you see?" he asked.

"Uh…" Sam started, thinking back. "This guy – Ben Edwards – was cornered by something. His attacker slit his palm with an athame and bled into an open wound on Ben's arm. Then he just…" He trailed off, trying to find words to describe it.

Castiel knew where this was going. "Transformed?" he supplied.

"Yeah. His skin was covered in black veins and his eyes were black."

This time, Dean definitely saw something pass through the angel's eyes. "What? Do you know what we're working with?" he asked.

The angel nodded slightly. "It was something Lucifer used to do before Michael sealed him. It's how he got to Lilith and Azazel. Something about his blood… it's poisonous to humans."

"Poisonous how?" asked Dean.

Castiel looked him directly in the eye, serious. "Lucifer's blood is able to turn humans into demons."

The brothers felt their blood run cold. Demons? So that's what Casey had been talking about back in Elizabethville.

"I thought Hell robbed people of their humanity," Dean said, recalling what Ruby had told him back when he, too, had trusted her.

"Yes, but that is a much slower process. What Lucifer is capable of doing is instantaneous. The human body itself is converted so it is not necessary to pull a soul into Hell. These demons are strong and bloodthirsty. They lose all ability to reason. The only one who can get through to them is the one who created them."

Silence followed Castiel's statement. The break in the case was overwhelming. It didn't see to matter how many things they'd seen, there was always something out there that blew their minds.

"So… if Ben's supposed to become a demon… then doesn't that mean… did Lucifer take his vessel?" asked Sam hesitantly, not sure if he really wanted the answer.

"Not that we've heard. I'll have to report this to Michael immediately," Castiel answered.

"You do that. Meanwhile, we'll head over to Ben's and keep an eye out," said Dean. He grabbed his coat and started to slip into it.

Sam stood up, staring incredulously at his brother. "Dean, we're talking about the Devil. If he shows up, we won't be able to stop him."

"Hey, you're the one who keeps insisting we save Ben," Dean reminded him. "I thought you'd wanna go."

"I do. I'm just surprised that you do," said Sam, walking over to where his brother stood.

"I'm full of surprises," Dean smirked. He led the way out to the car.

* * *

Ben opened the front door quietly out of habit. There had been days when Evelyn had insisted on no loud noises during her third trimester, and her doting husband was only too happy to oblige. And he was still waiting on her every need. Earlier that evening, Evelyn had wanted the extra memory card for her camera. Ben agreed to run home and get it after the twins were fed.

Ben flicked the light switch as he closed the door, but the entrance light refused to go on. Confused, he flicked the switch twice more. Strange. It was a new bulb, Ben having changed it just that morning. The brand name was one of the best, so the chances of it being faulty were slim.

The neighbor's dog started howling as he heard a noise in the living room. It sounded like someone had shifted a piece of furniture. Ben's eyes narrowed in confusion as he slowly moved forward and into the open room.

A strikingly beautiful woman stood in the center of the room decked out in a black button down blouse with three-quarter length sleeves, black leather pants, and black stiletto boots. Shrouded in darkness with nothing but the streetlights hitting her through the windows, he could just make out her features. Her skin was probably pale or fair. She had dark hair, probably brown, and dark, piercing eyes. Eyes that were trained on him.

"Benjamin," she purred in a sultry voice, dark painted lips spreading into a sweet, almost innocent smile.

He blinked. She knew his name? "Who are you?" he demanded.

"Your salvation," she answered simply.

Ben was suddenly flung into the air and sent flying across the room. He crashed into the wall mirror before hitting the floor. The strange woman merely watched him as he stood up, pulling a glass shard out of his left bicep. Blood instantly swelled.

Ben stared at the woman, shocked and scared. How had she been able to do that? She wasn't anywhere near him. And she certainly wouldn't have been strong enough to physically lift him if she were standing next to him.

"Please. I don't understand. What do you want from me?" he pleaded.

She glanced away from him, carefully watching her own movements as she lifted an athame to her open palm. Slowly and smoothly, she drew the blade across her pale skin, drawing a thin line of blood. Smile back in place, she turned her attention back to Ben and crossed over to him.

Ben's eyes widened in fear and he began to tremble. "Stay away, you bitch!" he shouted, sounding a lot braver than he felt.

Again, she ignored him. She placed the athame in her belt to free her hand. She grabbed his wounded arm and pulled it straight, causing Ben to gasp and struggle fruitlessly. Leaning over the limb, the woman pressed her sliced palm to his cut, allowing their blood to mix.

The effect was instantaneous. Ben arched back suddenly as he grunted. Choked sounds began to emit from his parted lips, his eyes widened in pain and fear. Black veins slowly began to cover his skin. His formerly brown eyes filled with inky blackness. His choking sounds became a deep growl, loud enough to be heard over the still howling dog. The growling grew louder still, changing into a snarl.

Her task complete, the woman smiled.

* * *

Dean pulled the Impala right up to the house and parked in front of the driveway. The brothers got out of the car and hurried around to the trunk.

"All right, that's Ben's car, so we don't have a lot of time," said Sam.

"We don't know anything's gonna happen tonight," Dean reminded him. "But even so, best to be prepared, especially if we're going up against Satan."

"Dean, we have no idea what Lucifer's weaknesses are."

"He's a fallen angel, so chances are not much. But Cas and Anna both used Nokian Sigils to banish angels before, so we'll save that as a last resort," Dean explained as they packed a little of everything. Flasks of holy water, bags of salt, shotguns filled with rock salt rounds, revolvers filled with consecrated iron rounds, silver knives, a machete for Dean, and Ruby's knife for Sam. They couldn't afford to screw up.

"What about Ben? What if we can't stop it?" asked Sam grimly.

Dean suppressed a wince. Leave it to Sam to cut right to the heart of the problem. Truth was, Dean didn't know what they would do if they couldn't save Ben. His little brother hadn't been around demons in months. If pushed too far too soon, Dean feared Sam might fall off the wagon, whether he wanted to or not. He wouldn't let that happen.

"We'll stop it, Sam," he said in as final a tone as he could muster.

"But _if_ we can't?" his brother insisted.

"_Then I'll handle it_!" Dean snapped, slamming the trunk lid closed. "All right? I'll handle it."

Sam fell silent. He heard his big brother's use of the word "I" and interpreted it for what it was. He couldn't blame him, though. Sam wasn't sure he could trust himself to stay clean, so how was Dean supposed to?

Without another word, the two hunters headed for the front door. It opened as soon as Dean turned the knob, so Ben clearly hadn't locked it. Between that and the darkness in every room despite the fact there was someone home, it was unsettling.

Dean aimed his shotgun as he stepped towards the living room. His eyes flickered over the room critically, taking everything in. The broken mirror, the unopened mail still sitting on the coffee table, the unnatural stillness of the wall clock.

There was no warning for the thing that tackled him to the ground, knocking the shotgun out of his hand. His head having hit the carpeted floor hard, it took Dean a second to regain his senses.

"_Dean_!" Sam shouted and raised the shotgun, firing a warning shot into the ceiling.

The thing that jumped his brother turned towards him, growling. Sam recognized the features immediately. The white skin covered in black veins. The oil black eyes. The unnatural pearl white teeth that glistened in the feral snarl. His heart sank.

It was Ben.

They were too late.

"Ben?" asked Sam cautiously, remembering what Castiel said about these demons being beyond reason but still hoping he could reach some part of the man that was human. "Ben, it's Sam. Do you remember me? From the hospital? With Hope?" He didn't know if reminding Ben about his daughter would work, but it was worth a try. "Look." Sam dropped the shotgun to the floor, but reached carefully and slowly for the flask of holy water and unscrewing the lid. He was optimistic, not suicidal. "I don't want to hurt you. I want to help you. Please, Ben. For your wife, for the twins."

Ben roared in response and pounced towards Sam. The hunter was ready, pulling out the flask, flicking off the cap, and splashing it on the approaching enemy. The new demon groaned as his skin sizzled.

From behind Ben, Dean had his shotgun raised and ready to fire. If holy water worked on it, rock salt might, too. He fired once, a perfect shot to the back. But the demon barely even flinched. He grabbed Sam and threw him onto the coffee table, busting it upon impact and forcing a grunt from Dean's brother. Dean tossed the shotgun aside and pulled out his pearl handled Colt revolver. He didn't hesitate in shooting several rounds of iron into Ben's torso. The demonic form flinched and Ben's roar increased with every hit. Clearly, the consecrated iron was having some effect on him, but not enough. He turned towards Dean and again began to pounce. However, he suddenly arched back with a howl, his entire body flashing red. There was the familiar sound of tearing flesh, and the demon that was formerly Benjamin Edwards fell dead. Sam stood behind the fallen corpse, Ruby's – now bloodied – knife in his hand.

Dean panted, glancing from the body to his baby brother. The knife had worked, but at what cost? God, he didn't want this. It was Jack Montgomery all over again. But as he turned his eyes back to his brother, Dean noticed the bigger, more urgent, problem.

Sam was staring at the carpet, at the pool of blood that was forming there.

Demon blood…

He could all ready smell the coppery scent, probably from the knife he still clutched. Sam remembered how all his doubts and fears would vanish after he drank the blood. It made him strong, stronger than he had ever been without it. One little sip and all his guilt would go away, all his pain and indecision…

…and his big brother.

"No…" Sam whispered as his body trembled. "No…" He forced his hand to uncurl, dropping the knife. He covered his mouth and nose tightly with his other hand and took a step back, shaking his head in the denial he could no longer speak.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief, his heart swelling with pride. Sam was resisting the temptation of the blood. That was a huge step in the right direction. Pushing himself off the floor, Dean crossed over to where his brother stood and gripped his arm in silent praise and support.

For a moment, the Winchesters stood, gazing down at the fallen monster and just taking it all in.

* * *

The hunters cleaned up the evidence of their existence and took off before local law enforcement could show up (the neighbors had to have heard the gunshots and probably called 911). They returned to the motel, where Dean insisted they try to get a couple hours sleep before leaving. But once dawn came, the brothers checked out and took off for the next location.

Sam had been quiet the night before, but now he was completely closed off. They had known all along there was no guarantee that they could stop the vision, but Dean knew Sam had been hoping. So, about thirty miles away from town, when he could no longer stand the silence, Dean broke it.

"Okay, I know we've said this before and this probably won't be the last time we have to say it, but we can't save everyone, Sam," he said, sparing his brother a quick glance.

Sam nodded in agreement, but he didn't speak. His gaze was fixed on the barren scenery outside the passenger window.

Dean cast around for something else to say, and then belatedly realized there was something that maybe needed to be said aloud. "Hey, uh… you know, about last night, with the blood…"

Sam cast his glance to his brother and watched him out of the corner of his eyes.

Dean hesitated slightly, but took the plunge. "That must have been really hard to do… resisting it like that on the first try… and, uh… I'm – I'm proud of you, Sammy. I mean it, I am."

Sam grinned and chuckled at Dean's awkwardness. "Thanks," he said softly. "And you're right, it was hard. Nearly impossible."

"What stopped you?" asked Dean.

"Your reaction and the reason I wanted it…" Sam trailed off, not wanting to say too much.

"Why did you want to?" Dean knew he was probably prying more than he usually would and really wanted to, but this was all important to Sam's recovery.

Sam shook his head, not interested in sharing. "It's nothing, don't worry."

"Sam –"

"It's just… I can't get over what I did. Hurting you, opening Lucifer's cage. I know it wasn't all me, that I was pushed, but the guilt's still there, you know?"

"You're right, it wasn't just you, Sam. I mean, technically, I opened the first seal. Remember how messed up I was when I found out? You're not the only one who knows what that feels like. You can come to me."

Sam snorted. Yeah, right. Mr. "No Chick-Flick Moments" _actually_ wanted to talk about feelings? It was just words to make Sam feel better. Dean didn't mean them.

"You didn't know any better," said Sam instead.

"Neither did you," Dean insisted. "And I couldn't always tell which side Ruby was really on. Hell, even Bobby had trouble. You have to try to let this go, Sam, or it'll just tear you apart. Okay?"

Knowing his brother needed an answer, Sam nodded. But it didn't matter. Dean didn't understand. Nobody would.

Sam was truly alone.

**CREATOR**  
**ERIC KRIPKE**

**EXECUTIVE PRODUCERS**  
**ERIC KRIPKE**  
**ROBERT SINGER**

**FANFICTION STORY**  
**JAKE THE FEARLESS LEADER**

_A wall display explodes in a blast of fire..._

_The brothers aiming loaded shotguns..._

_Flickering lights and the form of a man appearing behind Sam..._

_Dean glancing around, controlled panic in his eyes..._


End file.
